Can You Be My Nightingale?
by MaeBae18
Summary: Evangeline Price is an EMT-Paramedic for Gotham City. When the Joker escapes from Arkham Asylum once again, and anarchy threatens to rise once more, will Batman save her? Or will she save Batman? Rated T to be safe, possibly M later. *Bruce Wayne/OC* *I do not own any of the characters except for my OCs - otherwise all copyrights go to DC Comics* *TDK, Christian Bale - slight AU*
1. Chapter 1

My day started off like a typical one – getting ready for work as a paramedic for the shady town that is Gotham City. As evening is approaching, I know that my assistance will, unfortunately, most likely be needed. I finish pulling my pristine white collared button-down with my station's emblem over my shoulder, quickly securing it by buttoning and tucking it into my pants. I lace the belt through the loops, ensuring that the weight of my necessary medical supplies in the cargo pants won't accidentally cause any wardrobe malfunctions. I lace up my issued shoes and deftly throw my hair into a tight, sleek ponytail that reaches halfway down my back; short wisps of my honey-blonde hair float near my ears. Since I'm on-duty tonight and not on-call, I exit my apartment in a less shady district of Gotham and head for my Chevy Cruze that's four years old.

The drive from my apartment to the station is relatively long since the evening rush of traffic of Gothamites trying to get home before the criminals go out on the prowl has begun. Even though the drive is about seven miles – which is too far for anyone to walk, especially at night – I arrive at my station in 20 minutes.

"Hey, Eve," a voice calls to me as I exit my car after parking it behind the station. I turn my head to see my long-time friend, Devyn. She and I quickly bonded, since we're the only two female paramedics in our station and we both graduated from our classes and got promoted at the same time. She always insists on calling me by my nickname and not my real name.

"Hey, Dev," I automatically go into what we call our 'para-walk', similar to a business walk where you're half-jogging/half-walking.

We hug briefly before heading toward our home-away-from-home; swiping our issued ID badges to enter the building. I never quite understood the security concerns behind having to make us use encrypted ID badges just to enter the station, but I guess you can't be too sure.

We enter the meeting room to find Battalion Chief Reed Flanch talking to Captain Dan Boone, Lieutenant Rob Nox, and Fire Chief Arden Lowe. The majority of our station's EMT-1s, EMT-2s, and EMT-paramedics, and firefighters are already in the room, seated, and waiting for the usual pre-shift meeting to begin.

"As usual, we have to remind you all," Bat. Chief Flanch's eyes quickly scan the room, "radio us should the Batman make the mistake of making his presence known to you."

This is something that I never have understood in the four years that I've been in this battalion in Gotham. Why on earth would they still insist on apprehending the man who has brought down someone like Carmine Falcone, Two-Face, hell, even the Joker? He's done so much for Gotham and the city just thinks that they can chase him out. I fold my arms tightly across my chest, forcing myself to not show any emotion. I know that he supposedly killed Two-Face, but there had to be something more to it than that – shit, Two-Face was even Harvey Dent, Gotham's District Attorney at one point; and it's not exactly a secret that he courted his Assistant, Rachel Dawes. A rumor even went around that they got engaged at one point. Anyway, Dent fought to end crime in Gotham, not make it even more prominent.

I ramble in my mind, my thoughts taking me away from my job momentarily. That is, until Devyn nudges me with her bony elbow, causing me to blink out of my reverie. She knows me too well, she knew that I was completely zoned out. I send her a very small, curt nod and see the corner of her mouth curl upwards slightly from my peripheral vision.

"Evangeline Price, EMT-Paramedic," I raise my head, making sure that my presence is known to my superiors. "Ambulance three."

I nod my head in confirmation of this information, praying silently that I'm with a good group of people tonight.

"Devyn Ambruster, EMT-Paramedic. Ambulance four. Sorry, girls, we need your talents split tonight."

Devyn and I look at each other and shrug slightly. Honestly, it's a compliment because that means that we're going higher into the ranks in our battalion. We secretly hand-hug under the table, both of us knowing what this means for our careers.

"Not a problem, sir," I respond politely, earning a curt nod from the superior.

"Good. Then you won't mind having EMT-1 Christopher Lowell with you tonight. You can show him the ropes, and he can learn from one of the best," Battalion Chief Flanch half-smiles.

Great. The new hire. I smirk slightly, appreciating the challenge. A few minutes later, the meeting ends and everyone has their assignments. For all I know, this could either be one of the longest nights of my life. Or the last.

* * *

Batman stands alone on a ledge of one of the many hotels of Gotham City; his long, dark cape billowing in the air current as he scans the area below. He is stooped over, his hand firmly planted on the ledge, the other across his knee. He is laying on one of his shins, his other foot flat on the ledge. His eyes scan for anything unusual, but it seems as though Gotham's criminals and low-lives have yet to come out of hiding.

Bruce Wayne smirks to himself. His fear of bats is shared amongst some now; however, just as Gordon predicted, escalation has occurred. Indeed, GCPD got semi-automatics, the thugs have started getting automatics – cops got bulletproof vests, more and more criminals now have Kevlar. Luckily Bruce knew that there are weak points in Kevlar, not to mention the fact that he relies on hand-to-hand combat anyway.

"Master Bruce," Alfred Pennyworth's voice brings Batman to reality. "It appears as though there has been yet another break-out at Arkham Asylum."

Bruce groans lightly. This is the second time in the matter of a month.

"Perhaps, sir, it would be most prudent for Wayne Enterprises to donate a generous amount of money in order to upgrade their security," Alfred deadpans in his thick English accent.

"Possibly," Batman rasps. "Who is it this time?"

"Our anarchist friend the Joker, sir."

At this point, Batman leaps off of the eave, activating the shape-memory fibers that allow him to glide over the City. He knew where he was headed – Arkham Asylum. Time to question them. Again.

* * *

"So, Evangline, why did you want to be a para?" Christopher Lowell asks me. Devyn and our friend Jonathon Lawson both send me a quick glance, knowing that this is a sort of sensitive question for me.

Unfortunately for me, Christopher either doesn't sense my hesitation and slight bristle or just completely ignores it. I clear my throat.

"Long story short, I don't want others to go through what I have," I fold my arms in front of my chest, hoping that newbie will drop it.

He chuckles. "Of course, that's why we're all here. There's something more to it than that, though, right?"

"Perhaps another time."

I rise from my chair a little forcefully, doing my best not to glare daggers at him.

"Eve…" Devyn starts after me. I see her nod to Jonathon, who obviously says something to Lowell, whose eyes widen slightly and then narrow in realization.

Only Jon and Dev know what happened to me, why I decided to go into the career that I have. I lost my mom, Anne, in a car accident when I was 15, and while my grandparents tried to help my dad, he eventually claimed his own life in the following depression. My bitterness never really alleviated, knowing that my dad left me alone to my own devices. My grandparents took care of me until I turned 18, where I insisted on moving out on my own. No college education, no work experience made me desperate. In my despair I wandered into the station and became a volunteer firefighter and have since moved up the ranks. My life turned around really only when Devyn found me crumpled on the floor, succumbing to an overdose of painkillers. She saved my life, literally and figuratively. I can't stand to tell that story to anyone because it brings back too many memories and all of my shame.

I take a deep breath, lacing my fingers together and tossing my hands behind my head. I close my eyes.

"Eve…" she begins again, her hand gently rubbing my arm.

"I know. I overreacted back there."

I open my eyes and see Devyn peering at me, concern in her eyes.

"It's been a long time, hon."

I sigh. "I know, I just –"

We don't get to finish our conversation as suddenly the alarm system in the station blares.

"Station 17 Code 1, R12, R24, R25 – AA, two victims."

Shit. A shooting at Arkham.

We all listen to the two beats as they soon announce the ambulance to go en route.

"A3."

"Be careful out there, Eve," Devyn squeezes my shoulder to reassure me.

I nod, clearing my thoughts. I need to focus on this run.

I sprint to my ambulance, and I see Jon and Christopher burst through the door into the garage. The two men leap into the front, Jon in the driver's seat, Chris in the passenger seat. I fling myself into the back. The garage door opens and we peel out onto the streets of Gotham.

"This is 17-3 en route – ETA six minutes," I hear Jon's voice crackle through my radio.

"10-4, 17-3. Priority one," the dispatcher replies.

Immediately, the sirens and our lights sound and shine, and I feel the boost of acceleration.

"Evangeline, radio GCPD for me will you?" Jon's voice calls to me from the small window separating the back from the front. I nod curtly.

I switch my radio's frequency to match GCPD's, and immediately radio. Jon's got to focus on driving, and I don't know if Christopher knows what to do – this is his first call to Arkham.

"GCPD, this is Station 17 A3. En route. ETA five minutes."

"Copy that." a tired voice responds.

* * *

Police Commissioner Jim Gordon quickly arrived to Arkham Asylum. As soon as his squad car is parked he flings open his door and marches up to the Warden.

"What happened here?"

"See for yourself," he gruffly responded. Immediately the two men set off to enter the large, imposing building that holds the criminally insane. "Two of our security guards have been shot, all by our escapee – Joker."

Gordon runs his hand through his hair and groans.

"We should have an ambulance on their way."

Just as Gordon finishes his sentence, his radio crackles to life.

"GCPD, this is Station 17 A3. En route. ETA five minutes," a feminine voice notifies him.

"Speaking of…" Gordon presses the button on the shoulder piece of his radio to respond. "Copy that."

Gordon steps back outside to direct the ambulance when they arrive, but he wasn't entirely sure if Batman would make an appearance. He probably would, but he imagined that he would keep to the shadows this time.

He walks over to this squad car, noticing that a forensics unit has recently arrived and is unloading their cases to see just how Joker escaped this time. He nods to them as they pass.

"Commissioner."

Jim Gordon whirls around, his heart beating frantically.

"Christ, Batman…"

Gordon's met with a silent gaze, and a slight smirk on the Caped Crusader's face.

"Two security guards are injured. He got out easily," he answered vaguely, figuring that Batman would understand by 'getting out easily.' It's not exactly Joker's MO to break out and only leave two victims – last time he did, he hurt three times that just because he could.

He sees Batman nod in response. He read between the lines, like usual.

Lights and sirens from the approaching ambulance pierce the night air. Gordon turns around in surprise.

"I hope they got here in time," he murmurs to himself. He turns back around.

"By the way –" He's gone. Again. "Never mind."

* * *

As soon as the ambulance parks, I throw off my seat belt and burst out of the back door, clutching our three medical bags to me. Jon and Christopher approach, and I launch the bags toward them. Jon catches his like the pro that he is, but Christopher makes a grunt, wind whooshing out of his lungs a little, and nearly drops the bag. I expertly swing mine over my shoulder, balancing it carefully.

"Commissioner Gordon," I speak to him, seeing him walk quickly up to us.

"They're inside."

The three of us sprint into the Asylum, and enter the scene.

"17-3, on the scene," I quickly update the station to our location.

"10-4, 17-3."

"Standby."

"Standing by."

I quickly assess the two security guards, noting the uniforms.

"Bulletproof vests?" I ask to no one in particular.

"Yes, ma'am. We've equipped all guards with them. Whole lot of good they did, though. Joker still almost killed them."

"With all due respect, they are still alive," my voice drips with the seriousness of the situation. The comment just succeeded in making me angry.

"Jon, Christopher – take one. I've got the other," I make the call.

The two men nod and step to one of the injured guards.

I step to the other one, and notice his breathing is labored slightly. A pool of blood has formed under his armpit. I can only assume that means he was shot or stabbed in the shoulder.

"Sir, my name is Evangline. I'm a paramedic, you're going to be okay."

I place my bag near my patient's head and set to work, slipping my gloves on my hands to protect myself.

"Can you tell me your name?" I question my patient as I take out my pen light to begin my assessment. Beginning with a quick neurological assessment is pretty much always my first step anymore.

"Steve Gandom," he groans.

"Okay, Mr. Gandom. Do you know where you are?"

"Arkham Asylum."

"Yes, that's right."

I continue my examination quickly, making sure that he isn't losing too much blood in the process.

"Can you tell me what happened?"

"Joker took my gun – used it on me."

"What caliber?" I rush to my bag searching for gauze, forceps, and a pair of fabric scissors.

"It's a 9 mm Smith and Wesson."

"Okay. I need you to stay as still as you can for me. I need to look at your shoulder."

"S-sure," he grunts.

I cut the sleeve of the issued uniform to expose the wound. He hear him wince slightly as I apply slight pressure to the wound sight.

GCS of 15. That's excellent.

"Mr. Gandom I need to apply pressure to this wound – I can numb your pain so that we can get you to a hospital where a surgeon can take out the bullet."

"Evange! Status 1!" Jon shouts to me, his and Christopher's patient has stopped breathing and needs CPR.

"Roger…!" Steve breathes out in shock. "You gotta save him!" he grabs me with his good arm and shakes me.

"Don't worry," I reassure him, throwing a glance over my shoulder to the three men.

"Chris – chest compressions, now."

Jon is already getting the AED out of the med bag. Chris, however, is hesitating.

"Chris!" I shout, making him jump in response. "Compressions!" I glare.

He shakes his head, realizing the situation he's now in and immediately begins chest compressions on Roger.

"You're doing great, Chris," I encourage him. I can see that fear of the unknown in his eyes. I used to be like that, too. He spares a glance at me, not breaking the rhythm of his compressions even while Jon attaches the shock pads and finishes setting up the AED on their patient.

"AED is charging – clear," I hear Jon utter.

I strategically set myself in front of my patient, Steve, just in case his friend shouldn't make it.

"If I support you, do you think you could walk to the ambulance?"

He lazily nods his head to me.

"Okay," I turn around and I watch Christopher jog to go get a gurney. Obviously Roger had taken the brunt of Joker's antics here.

"Do you need help?" Police Commissioner Gordon approaches me.

"Just to make sure he's not hurt any more. We only have one gurney in there tonight. I just need to move him to the ambulance, Commissioner."

"Okay. Nice and easy."

Together, Commissioner Gordon and I half carry Mr. Steve Gandom to the back of the awaiting ambulance. I take most of the man's weight on my own shoulder while Gordon stays at the man's uninjured side. Since Jon parked the ambulance at the base of the stairs going into the ancient Asylum, we don't have to walk far – only down the six stairs.

Steve's grunts and groans pierce my ears; it always pains me to know that my patients are in so much pain, and to know that this is caused by one lunatic in a building chock full of them hurt me deeply.

Commissioner Gordon and I set him down comfortably in the back of the ambulance, near where I would normally sit. I quickly attach an O2 meter to his left index finger and a blood pressure cuff to the uninjured arm.

"I just need to check your blood pressure, okay?"

"Alright, do what you need to do, miss."

134/76. In an acceptable range for his pain and stress. I nod and smile a little.

"Steve," I call to him to get his attention back on me. "Is it okay if I numb your shoulder for transport?"

He silently nods his assent, and I begin securing him in a prone position for transport.

I quickly search through my bag and find a syringe of morphine. After I do some quick calculations on my part of finding the right dosage for Mr. Gandom, I talk to him to reassure him some more.

"Just a quick prick and it'll be over. You may feel some pain with the initial dose, okay? I'm right here."

What he didn't expect was the fact that just before I finished assuring him that I was there for him, I quickly injected the medication into his deltoid muscle so that he couldn't tense up and brace himself for the needle subconsciously.

"You may start feeling dizzy or drowsy, but it's normal. If you have a hard time breathing, please tell me," I smile reassuringly.

"You seem to be a natural at this," Commissioner Gordon praises me.

I take off my gloves while watching my patient to ensure his health.

"Thank you," I toss a smile over my shoulder to the Police Commissioner of Gotham City. "It's unfortunate that these situations have to occur, however."

I see Gordon solemnly nod his head in agreement.

"A damn shame. We've lost too many."

"Not as much as we could have – the Batman's done some good for us, you know."

I hear a light chuckle escape.

"He'd be happy to hear that he's got at least two admirers then."

I rise to my feet, turning to face the Commissioner, feeling secure that my patient is going to be okay. But before I can talk to him some more, Jon and Christopher wheel Roger out to the ambulance.

"Evange – he's a status three," Jon informs me.

"What do we got?"

"Chris – fill her in. I'm driving. Priority one, so I hope you're steady on your feet."

The back doors slam shut, and the engine comes to life in the ambulance.

"Chris, fill me in."

"O-okay. Gunshot to the right bicep, stabbing in the throat – he's losing a lot of blood. We've got a drip going."

"Gloves, then. Now."

We both properly protect ourselves and I vaguely hear Jon radio Gotham General to the situation of our two patients in the ambulance that are en route.

We immediately set to work making sure that there's nothing in the wound tracts – Chris takes the patient's bicep and I take his throat since he was obviously uncomfortable with the location.

"I see the bullet," Chris informs me.

"Okay – leave it in there."

"What?" he looks at me incredulously.

"That's what the surgeons are for," I try to lighten up the tense atmosphere of the ambulance. "Anyway, if you take the bullet out, it could bleed even worse. Just make sure you put firm pressure on that arm."

I watch as he carefully wraps the injured bicep with gauze and bandages and then I set to the task of tending to the three-inch long slice on the man's throat. Far too close to the jugular. I hesitate slightly and decide to only put pressure on the wound.

"Take his vitals – BP, heart rate."

After a quick moment of hooking the patient up to a state-of-the-art vitals machine, Chris vocalizes the counts while I still delicately attend to the knife wound.

"BP is 180 over 50 – heart rate 88 and climbing!"

I slam the heel of my hand into the divider of the ambulance three times, a signal that Jon and I developed over the years as our own way of saying that we're losing a patient.

Only a second or two later, Chris and I noticeably feel the ambulance increase in speed in response.

A loud, continuous tone pierces our ears. My head whirls around in response.

"No pulse – code blue at 21:56! Starting CPR!" I shout, immediately beginning chest compressions.

"Roger…?" I hear Steve croak.

"Chris – defib," I bark.

"Charging to 300 Joules," he announces.

A beep pierces the air in addition to the still continuous tone.

"Charged. Clear!"

I back away from Roger, putting my hands in the air to visually show Chris that I was completely cleared of him.

The electricity tears itself through Roger's chest, his back arching in response.

"No pulse – resuming CPR," I announce. My mind whirls around with different approaches to save the man's life. "Chris – give him an amp of epi."

I continue my compressions, my hands aching at this point at the rhythm.

"No good – charging to 360!" Chris announces.

Again, the beep announcing that the charge is complete sounds.

"Charged – clear!"

Roger's back arches once again in response to 360 Joules of electricity coursing through his body, attempting to restart his heart.

My frustration bubbles as he's still flat-lining.

"Resuming CPR – give me an amp of bicarb."

"Bicarb?" Chris asks, administering the medicine through the patient's IV line.

"Bring pH levels back," I pant, giving an extremely short answer to his question.

"What about atropine?"

Perfect! Atropine will get the heart rate back up to normal levels.

"Great – I knew you'd think of that next," I smile at him, never once breaking my compression rhythm.

The entire route from Arkham Asylum to Gotham General takes about nine minutes, and I spend about half of that doing chest compressions.

As soon as we park and I hear the back doors open, I leap onto the gurney and straddle our patient, still meticulously continuing compressions. Jon obviously radioed ahead, and three nurses and a doctor sprint down the hallway of the emergency room alongside the gurney. We head straight into a room, me still trying to desperately save the man's life.

"Doctor, charge to 380 – 300 and 360 didn't bring him back," I pant.

"Charging to 380!" I hear a nurse shout to the room.

The beep once again signaling its charge pierces my ears. I forget how much louder it is in the actual hospital.

"Clear!"

I instantly jump off the gurney and nearly collapse when I hit the floor from sheer exhaustion. Six straight minutes of chest compressions will wear you out!

The doctor on-call turns to me.

"Take a breather."

I nod my head, not noticing the beads of sweat on my forehead that are dribbling down my cheeks. I'm still panting slightly, my hands aching.

"No pulse – resume CPR," the doctor, Evan Rose shouts before turning back to me, satisfied that a different nurse is now doing the compressions so that I can rest. "When did you start?"

I rack my brain quickly, doing my best to remember. "21:56."

It's now 22:06. Ten minutes later.

The look that Doctor Rose tells me everything, and I nod in silent agreement. This is Roger's final chance at life.

"Charge to 400!" Rose shouts over the people in the room.

"Charging to 400," a nurse responds.

The last moment is a complete blur, and a moment that I always dread in my career. The final shock didn't bring him back. After eleven minutes of CPR and defib shocks, Gotham lost another citizen to the Joker.

"I'm calling it," Doctor Rose sighed. "Time of death 22:07."

A few tears slid down my cheeks as I exited the room and immediately see Jon and Chris waiting for me. I shake my head, a silent 'no', and they recognize the significance of the gesture. The three of us hug lightly, a small pillar of support.

* * *

Hey, everyone! Please let me know what you think! Comments and suggestions would be greatly appreciated. (:


	2. Chapter 2

Once we get back to Station 17, I immediately head upstairs to the flat roof. My usual place that I go to for solace and some peace and quiet. When we got back, Devyn was out on a call, so I didn't have my best friend to vent to. I just went straight up to my quiet place. I sat on the roof, the breeze blowing my ponytail over my shoulder and toward my face. The moonlight from a waning crescent moon doesn't shine harshly, something that I'm grateful for right now. I'm sure I look like a mess.

I silently let a few more tears fall.

Batman silently glided to Station 17, the hub of the ambulance that saved one man's life and lost another tonight. On the roof, he spotted a young woman, most likely in her early to mid-20s sitting on a ledge; her head in her hands. Her sorrow was practically radiating from her.

"You did everything you could," the raspy, deep voice of Batman calls out to her, making her jump to her feet and whirl around.

"W-who's there?" she calls out.

Once Batman stepped out of the shadows, she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Oh, Batman. You… saw what happened?" she peered at the Caped Crusader curiously.

Batman found himself nodding once in assent.

"You did everything you could," he repeated. "Not just anyone would do chest compressions on a man they don't know for five minutes."

The Dark Knight watched as the woman sighed lightly.

"Does it matter?" she asks. "I still lost him at the end of it all."

"But you saved another."

She has no response, instead staying silent.

"Why are you here?" she suddenly asks.

"Those men were attacked by the Joker. What happened?"

Bruce Wayne watches as the young woman turns around to face him once again, this time he notes her beauty – she has light skin, most likely from a Western European heritage. But even from here, thanks to the moonlight as a backlight, he can see golden-colored hair. The only thing that he found himself wishing he could know would be her eye color.

"I should notify my battalion that you're even here. You're still kind of a wanted criminal," she began. This immediately made Batman be slightly on edge. "But I believe you're innocent. I don't think you killed Harvey Dent."

For the first time, a small smile plays on the woman's lips, and Bruce's heart nearly skips a beat in response.

"Two victims," she began. "One had a gunshot wound to the right shoulder. The other – the one we lost, had a gunshot to the left bicep and a three-inch long wound from a knife near the jugular."

An alert rings out through the station, tearing the woman's attention away from Batman just long enough for him to silently slip away from the building. Batman activated the cape's technology allowing him to glide, and he soon landed on a rooftop only a block away from the station. He could still see the woman that he talked to on the roof, looking around, no doubt confused about his sudden disappearance; this made Bruce Wayne chuckle a little.

"Alfred," he calls out to his loyal family butler.

"Yes, sir?" Alfred Pennyworth dutifully and quickly responds.

"Joker hurt two men at Arkham. He killed one, the other managed to survive."

"Oh, my. But if I may say, sir, that seems to be slightly uncharacteristic of him."

The observational skills and the memory of the old man have never ceased to impress Bruce.

"I agree. Something's not right."

"Is anything right with that madman?"

I stumbled out of my car at the end of my shift, and into my apartment just past 5 o'clock in the morning. I'm used to the late night shifts, seeing as that's what shift I started with, but tonight I knew I was going to struggle as I normally do whenever I lose a patient. Somehow I was graced with only a six-hour shift last night.

I unlock the door with my key and immediately relock it once I step inside, purely out of habit. You can't be too safe in Gotham anymore.

I unlace my work shoes and toss them onto the small rug that I keep near the door before making my way through the small one bedroom apartment's living room to my bedroom to change out of my clothes. I let my hair out of the tight ponytail

I slip out of my work uniform and into a pair of shorts and a tank top, grateful to be in the soft fabric. I walk out to my kitchen and mentally curse myself for the lack of groceries – the only thing that I have to eat is some bread and only a few slices of lunch meat. I don't exactly get out to the supermarket on a regular basis anymore. That really needs to change.

So I make myself a small sandwich instead of leaving to go get some fast food. I sit down in front my television set to try and wind down before getting some sleep. Luckily I have the next two days off before I'm back to work.

"In other news, the Joker has escaped from Arkham Asylum once again," the news report states, a picture of Joker projected onto the screen. "He injured two guards in the escape, killing one. The other is stable condition."

"Residents are urged to be extremely vigilant. If anyone has information about the Joker's whereabouts, they are urged to call Gotham City Police Department," the co-anchor butts in.

I sigh, thinking about what the Joker did to the two men tonight. Sure, we may have saved the life of one person, but we also lost another. That's a sting that takes time to heal even though we did everything that we could.

I texted Devyn on the way back to Station 17 from Gotham General in our own made-up language: 'd post ra' – which translates to us as 'death post resuscitation attempt' so by the time Jon, Chris, and I got back to the station, she already knew what had happened and greeted me with a hug.

Devyn and I are so close just because of everything that we've gone through together. Her parents have become like my own, but they'll never truly replace my own and they respect that. That being said, Arnold and Diane Ambruster still treat me like one of their own, and Devyn and I are like sisters.

My text tone, a portion of a song by Demi Lovato called 'Nightingale' makes me snap back into reality.

Devyn: 'you doing ok?'

Me: 'i guess *shrugs*'

'how about we go out tonight, hit up the club?'

I smile at the text and my best friend's attempt to make me feel better.

'sounds fun (:'

'then dress yo best girl, we're gonna turn some heads tonight! ;)'

'it'd be you doin that not me, dear (;'

'what time? i need to catch some z's'

'not til late. get some sleep you hoe :*'

'haha, you love meeee'

I rise from my couch and head toward my bedroom to catch some z's. I flop onto my bed, a full-sized one, and almost immediately slip into dreamland.

On the far side of Gotham City, Bruce Wayne was just now climbing into his bed, too. Along the way to his room, Bruce's thoughts wandered back to the young woman that worked on Steve Gandom and Roger Bodell and the anguish that radiated from her after Mr. Bodell didn't survive. The way her hair flowed over her back as she faced him. How her voice personified her sadness that hinted at something more. No doubt, her job is difficult in every way. But Bruce can't help but wonder what she's seen, and what her life is like.

As Bruce exits the still newly-decorated study to trudge down the hallway toward his bedroom, he can't get the image of the woman out of his head. Even as he opens the door and peels off his shirt and collapses onto his bed, he can't help but feel drawn to her.

I awaken suddenly to my alarm, a frighteningly loud bell. It's only ten a.m., but I feel refreshed; five hours of sleep just seems to be the perfect amount for me anymore. I lay in my bed for a moment, enjoying the clean sheets draped over my body; however, I don't stay too long and throw the covers off of me and swing my legs over the bed. My feet pad across the worn beige carpet of my bedroom down the hallway to the bathroom.

I take my time in the shower, not feeling rushed since I only have to get some grocery shopping done today. After my 20-minute shower, I wrap a towel around my slender-yet-toned body and wrap another around my hair to help to dry it. I step out of the steamy bathroom, since I love taking showers that are so hot that my skin turns a bright red, and the feel the slap of temperature contrast between the bathroom and the hallway.

I walk to my closet and my dresser, pulling out my favorite matching panties and bra, my favorite jeans, and a mint colored v-neck shirt. I accessorize with my mother's necklace, a small pendant adorned with my mother's birthstone: the sapphire. I clasp the platinum chain securely around my neck, and step to my full-body mirror to examine how I look.

My body is something that I'm not ashamed of; I don't work out like I should, but the rigorous training in stamina and strength and endurance did indeed pay off. I'm naturally petite, and the muscle mass filled out my body perfectly; a beautiful blend of feminine curves and masculine mass. I admire myself in the mirror, noting though that I do need to get back to the gym. Oh, well.

I throw on some light makeup: a layer of foundation, a light purple eye-shadow to contrast my dark chocolate brown eyes, eyeliner, and mascara.

Going grocery shopping isn't something that I particularly enjoy doing, but it needs to be done. I sling my black purse over my shoulder and exit the apartment and walk to the curb to my Cruze.

I live in Midtown, off of Murphy Avenue, which means that I'm almost perfectly nestled in the center of Gotham City, and all of its problems. But I don't have to go far to get to my usual supermarket in the Coventry district.

"Hey, Evangeline! It's been a while!" I'm greeted as soon as I step inside. I smile and wave to the kind man and grab a shopping cart.

Meanwhile at Wayne Manor, Alfred Pennyworth is preparing to do some grocery shopping of his own. Fate would dictate today that Mr. Pennyworth would take the slightly longer trip to Midtown, some unknown, inexplicable force of some sort pulling him toward a popular market near Coventry.

The elder man walked up the stairs to Bruce's bedroom in order to inform him of his location for the next couple of hours. The climb up the stairs to the Master's room is quick, since he's still surprisingly spry and with a witty humor to boot – perhaps that's what keeps him so young, he chuckled to himself. He knocked on Master Bruce's door, but not surprisingly, he didn't respond. He must still be asleep.

He entered the room, drawing the curtains as he does so to permit the sunlight to shine into Bruce's eyes. The sudden appearance of the light causes him to childishly throw a pillow over his face in response.

"Bats are nocturnal," Alfred hears Bruce groan, making the elder man chuckle in response.

"I am well-aware, sir. I've come to inform you that I will be tending to some shopping this afternoon."

Bruce only rolled back over, away from Alfred and waved his hand as if to say 'okay.'

So, Alfred made the trip back down the stairs and into the large garage full of expensive sports and classic cars; however, Alfred really only used two of the classic vehicles while Bruce used the sports cars. There is an image that he has to maintain.

The Rolls-Royce that Alfred expertly drives with the utmost care and attention glides over the streets of Gotham, taking him to his destination. The market is quite busy, but since it's a beautiful June day, one where it's not too hot nor too cold, it's not really all that surprising.

If only Alfred had known what waited for him inside.

My shopping cart was getting pretty full. I had everything that I would need food-wise for the next couple of weeks. A paramedic's salary only really allows me to live two to three weeks ahead; I manage to pay all of my bills on time, though. Somehow. My walk through the market is a peaceful one. For the next two seconds.

An explosion tears through the store, the accompanying pressure wave causing me to fall. Screams and shrieks of terror ring out through the store and I get back up on my feet to run through the scattered debris. An eerie laugh echoes throughout the scene, one that any Gothamite can pick out and instantly have fear struck into the heart: the Joker.

"Ho ho, he, ah ha," he chuckles. A shiver runs down my spine.

A hand grabs my ankle, and I do my best not to scream. I look down, and see a man silently begging for help. There's a portion of an end-cap on top of him. From my vantage I can see that's he wearing a suit and appears to be older.

I silently pull the stand off of him, and he attempts to stand.

"Easy, easy," I whisper to him.

"Why would he attack a market?" I ask aloud.

"That madman," a voice thick with an English accent responds, "just loves to watch the world burn."

"I don't suppose Batman would be willing to make a daytime appearance," I wince, noticing for the first time that I rolled my ankle.

"Bats are nocturnal," the man half jokes, earning a smirk from me.

"Are you okay?" I ask him quietly, seeing blood ooze from his shoulder. "You're bleeding."

He casually glances at the site, and appears to shrug it off as nothing.

"I'm alright, miss."

"At least let me wrap it. I don't want it to get infected or bleed worse."

The man casts me a curious look.

"I'm a paramedic," I inform him. "Don't worry."

He tentatively gives me his shoulder to wrap, and I do so quickly and efficiently.

"It looks like a shallow cut," I whisper to him, smiling.

"Thank you. But are you hurt?"

"I'll be okay."

Joker and two of his men chat somewhere in the market. I can't make out anything they're saying, but I hear their voices.

Sirens approach our location, and the elder man and I join the people running out of the store to get to safety. We get separated in the process, but it's something that I'm not terribly concerned about; I know that the awaiting medical staff will take care of his shoulder. Meanwhile, I have to slow down and half-walk/half-jog because of my injured ankle. I suddenly realize that I'm the last one out of the market, leaving me the most vulnerable to the Joker.

Sure enough, a hand clamps down over my mouth and I am dragged back against my will; I'm thrashing about trying to fight off the attacker behind me until I feel the blade of a knife just pressing into the ribs of my right side.

"You, uh, don't want to do anything you might, uh," Joker whispers evilly to me before pressing the blade a little deeper. "Regret."

I immediately stopped trying to escape and focused on not getting stabbed. I stop moving and raise my hands parallel to my shoulders, showing him that I was unarmed and not going to pose a threat or fight back. The blade releases from my ribs and I am spun around, one of his hands grasping my wrist and twisting it at an extremely uncomfortable angle behind my back. The scars on his face are the things of nightmares.

"You're beautiful, just like my wife. I hated my wife," he snarled. "Wanna see how I got these scars?"

I whimper in response, fear taking hold and my knees begin to turn to jelly. I'm in the clutches of one of the most dangerous men in all of Gotham City.

"Like I said, she was beautiful, just like you. But she tells me I need to smile more…" I watch in pure horror as he takes out a switchblade, pressing it against the corner of his mouth. "So I take this blade, and do this."

I look away, trying to find a way to get away from him, but his hand forcibly snatches my chin, his fingers curling around my lips. He's forcing me to look at him.

"Hey, look at me!" He growls. "I did this to myself – and now, I'm always smiling."

I unconsciously let a tear slip down my cheek, scared out of my mind.

"Ah, sh, sh, sh, sh, sh," he starts gently slapping my face, making me flinch with each light hit in response.

He suddenly releases his grip on me and tosses me away from him.

"Go," he commands, but then suddenly places a finger to his lips in a shushing gesture. "But say nothing to Batsy."

I nod and scramble to my feet, racing out of the half-destroyed market. As soon as I exit, I fall to the ground, my ankle giving out on me completely. I wince, my hands scraping on the concrete slightly.

"Are you okay?"

I look up to see a handsome man in a business suit racing to me. He approaches me quickly and then kneels beside me. I can only shake my head no silently.

"Are you hurt?"

"Y-yeah," I stutter. "I think I sprained my ankle."

The man's face grimaced slightly. But suddenly the man laces his arms around me, one under my knees and the other under my back. I yelp in surprise, earning a smirk from the handsome man in response. That smirk makes my heart flutter; I curse myself mentally for gushing over a guy so suddenly.

"I, uh," I trip over my words.

"It's fine. You're light."

"Master Bruce!"

The gentleman turns toward the source of the voice. The same man that I helped get out of the market.

Wait. Did he say Bruce?

"Alfred, you're okay," the man sighs in relief.

"Of course, sir, thanks to the young lady in your arms," he gestures to me with his uninjured arm. "Of course, I wasn't expecting you to come down here to pick up girls."

'Bruce' chuckles. "Well, you know me, Alfred, some people come to the market to pick up groceries, I pick up chicks," he smirks.

I suppress a chuckle, but the slight movement reminds him that I'm still in his arms.

"Let's get you to an ambulance," his hazel eyes peer at me with concern. As he carries me to an awaiting ambulance, he smiles at me. "You helped Alfred?"

"Yeah, I couldn't just leave him there."

"He said you insisted on wrapping his shoulder even though it's not a deep cut."

I half-shrug. "I'm a paramedic, it's kind of in my nature."

"A modern-day hero," he mutters.

We arrive at an ambulance, and Bruce sets me down where the EMT's tell him to.

"Thank you Mr. Wayne," one of them said.

The two names Bruce and Wayne suddenly click in my mind. Bruce Wayne. Oh. OH. OH MY GOD. I am in the arms of a billionaire playboy!

"Bruce Wayne?" I sputter, shocked.

He sends me a lop-sided smirk.

"Yeah. You helped Alfred Pennyworth, my butler."

I nod in response.

A paramedic begins an examination on me to see if I'm hurt.

"Any pain anywhere?" he asks.

"My right ankle. I fell when the explosion went off and I think I sprained it."

"Okay. I'm going to take off your shoe, then, and look at it."

I glance back up, and see that Bruce Wayne is still standing there, but he looks like he's looking past us.

"Uh, Mr. Wayne?" I stammer.

He seems to be brought back to reality, his eyes suddenly refocus.

"I, uh, didn't think that you'd be the one to help. So, thank you Mr. Wayne."

"Bruce. Please call me Bruce," he leans against the entrance to the ambulance and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his dress pants. He's standing only about a foot from me.

I nod, smiling a little. "Thank you, Bruce."

"You're welcome."

There's a slightly awkward pause.

"I'm Evangeline," I yelp halfway through my name, pain coursing through me as the paramedic touches my ankle.

"Sorry," the paramedic half-whispers.

"It's okay," I grit my teeth.

"Let me wrap this, and then I'd recommend getting to your doctor's and getting it checked out, okay?"

I nod in response. "Okay."

I look back up, expecting to see Bruce Wayne still standing there, but he's suddenly gone.

What on earth just happened?

If you had asked Bruce why he ran over to a woman he didn't even truly know and then carried her to an ambulance, he would just say that he was doing what he thought was right. However, there was something nagging at the back of Bruce's mind as he walked away from Evangeline and the paramedic that was examining her. There was something about her that felt incredibly important. Like she was someone who would play a significant part in Bruce's life. Hell, she helped out Alfred when he was hurt from Joker's attack today. There's just something about Evangeline that Bruce quite liked – maybe it was the fact that she is, as he had said earlier, a modern-day hero. But perhaps there was something more to it than that. Maybe it was the honey-blonde hair or the dark brown eyes that held so much emotion. Or maybe it was even the way she nervously yelped and blushed when Bruce held her.

When Bruce held her. He repeated that memory in his head quite a few times – somehow it felt almost natural. Like she was a missing piece to a puzzle. And oh, her sweet, blissful ignorance of not realizing that he was Bruce Wayne – he chuckled at that again. This was a woman who knew Batman and not Bruce Wayne; it seemed so backwards. And now that Evangeline had officially entered his life, his Bruce Wayne life, suddenly he found that he can't wait to see her again.


	3. Chapter 3

Only a moment after I got back to my apartment, I am taken aback by a sudden hug. Apparently, Devyn had come over to see if I was alright. She gripped me in a bone-crushing hug.

"I'm not about to lose my best friend to the Joker!" she half-shouts, placing her head onto my shoulder as she continued to hug me.

"Dev, I'm fine," I pat my best friend's back. "Joker let me go."

Devyn pulls away from me, her brow furrowed.

"He… let you go? He didn't hurt you?"

I nod. "He just made me swear not to tell Batman."

"Well, I'm pretty sure all of Gotham knows that the asshole was spotted today, so…"

I nod and limp into my apartment. Devyn's eyes widen.

"I knew you were hurt!"

"Dev, I fell in the explosion… I just twisted my ankle," I tried to calm her, showing the ACE wrap that was wound expertly around the bottom couple of inches of my leg and halfway over my foot.

"How did you get out? You can barely walk even with that wrapped."

"I, uh, was carried out," I blush at the memory of Bruce Wayne's strong, muscular arms carrying me to the awaiting ambulance.

"Was he hot?" Dev laughs, no doubt seeing the blush on my face.

"Haha, yeah, he was," I brush a hand through my hair, sweeping a couple of locks behind my ear.

"Well, who was he?"

"You wouldn't believe if I told you."

"Tell me!" Devyn folds her hands in front of her in a begging gesture.

"Alright, okay. It was…" I pause for dramatic effect. "Bruce Wayne."

Dev's hands silently fall, and her jaw hits the floor as I retell my chance encounter with the one and only Bruce Wayne, the billionaire playboy and business owner, Gotham City's most eligible bachelor, Prince of Gotham.

"THE Bruce Wayne?" she squeals.

I nod. "Yeah, and he's even more handsome in person. Now, can you please pick up your jaw from the floor? I just cleaned the floors," I smirk.

Suddenly she groans and throws a nearby pillow at me.

"Why do you have all the luck?"

"I wouldn't exactly call today 'good luck' Dev," I crossed my arms, my hands grabbing my elbows; my eyes widened slightly at her comment.

"Oh, you know what I mean, Eve."

"Yeah, yeah. And anyway, he was just doing the right thing," I wave my arm and flit my fingers in a sweeping motion to signal that I took it as nothing important.

"But he stayed to see if you were okay! Eve, that's something. If he were just 'doing the right thing,'" she air quoted, "then he would have just dropped you off at the ambulance and then left to help others."

She did make a fair point. I found myself nodding slowly.

"Hey, if you don't want to go out tonight, we don't have to. You've been through a lot in the past 24 hours," concern for my well-being was suddenly on my best friend's mind.

"No, I feel like now more than ever I need a drink," I sighed.

"Whiskey sours all around," Devyn laughed.

Back at Wayne Manor, Bruce had arrived back home with Alfred not far behind home. Bruce had taken the rest of the day off to make sure that Alfred would be okay; even though he was a stubborn man, he wasn't getting any younger. Eventually, Bruce had worn down the man and he finally gave in to his Master's please of him retiring for the rest of the day in order to concentrate on getting himself better. Truthfully, Bruce would be fine on his own for one day; he'd spent seven years traversing Asia. He can manage one day doing tasks around his own home.

That being said, the imminent threat of the Joker loomed over Gotham. Bruce decided to make himself a sandwich and make a pot of coffee, and took it all with him to the study. He entered the room, carefully setting the coffee and his small lunch on the piano bench before he played those cringe-worthy, awkward chords that granted access to the Bat Cave. The one section of the bookshelf clicked open, and Bruce picked up the tray holding his food, and he stepped into the shelf, securing it behind him.

It's a short trip down to the mouth of the Bat Cave thanks to the elevator. The screeching of the near-by cave residents, who oh so fittingly, well, fit, never cease to make Bruce's skin crawl. Even though he was man out on a mission to help clean up Gotham's streets dressed as a goddamn bat himself, bats still make him jumpy. He could feel their eyes watching him, and as the blaring lights of the Cave illuminate, the bats screech and take flight to find somewhere darker and quieter.

The gentle hum of the Bat Computer and the cascading water of a waterfall toward north end of the cave are soon enough the only sounds that echo in the cavern. Bruce sat at the computer and began searching for information about Joker; if there had been any other sightings or if there are rumors of his location. But his search is in vain, and he is soon frustrated to find out that no one knows about the elusive Joker. Bruce had to resist slamming a fist into the keyboard, since he knew that since Joker had broken out of Arkham again he most likely had something up his sleeve. He always did.

Bruce had found his mind wandering to what had happened in Coventry earlier that day, though, and the woman who had helped Alfred. The woman who had been hurt by Joker. The thought angered him in a manner that surprised him; he didn't even know this woman, but here he was, angry that she had been hurt. No doubt about it, there was attraction between the two of them, even he felt that, but it wasn't that uncommon for women to be attracted to him. Many of them only for his money, though. So how did he know that she would be any different? Bruce rubbed his chin thoughtfully, and began searching her name in his accessible databases.

"Evangeline Grace Price. Daughter of Steven and Judy Price, only child. Both parents are deceased," Bruce's eyes skimmed across the information on the screens. "EMT-Paramedic for Gotham's Station 17."

"Well, that's not much information to go on," Bruce speaks aloud. But that's a good thing, means that she's got a clean background. He smirks to himself. A photo of her flashes on his screen; one pulled from the database for Gotham's first-responders.

A terrible thought suddenly occurs to him. Something that had slipped his mind; Joker was in that store today with her. But he let her go. Why? Not that he was complaining, but why did he let her go so easily? An injured ankle is nothing compared to what Joker's done to his victims in the past…

Bruce sat at the computer, his head leaning on his hand while he thought.

A gut instinct sets him on edge suddenly, and his heart screams at him that he needs to watch over Evangeline; his logical head reasons it to make sure that Joker doesn't go after her again. But deep down, Bruce feels something different about the woman who seems to be watching him from the computer screen. There's something about those dark brown, doe eyes and her honey-blonde hair that just makes him feel weak in the knees.

"How do I look?" I asked Devyn who turns around to examine me.

It took me some time to decide what to wear, but I finally decided on a pair of high-waisted jean shorts and a nice v-neck t-shirt. I accessorized only with my purse and my mother's necklace.

"You look great. I'm still jealous of those legs, though, you know."

Devyn always teased me that I have model-like legs that are a mile long. I laugh and smile at her compliment.

"You look good, too, Dev," I compliment, noting her choice in pink canvas shorts and white tank top.

"Aw, thanks," she smiled. "So, since we're both planning on drinking, let's just take a cab there."

"Probably for the best. Can't exactly have two of Gotham's first-responders driving under the influence can we?"

"No way. Not after how hard we've busted our asses to get where we are."

We link arms and promenade out to the streets of Gotham, where the evening traffic rush had officially begun. The attack from Joker today had lessened traffic, but it was still pretty bad. At least it was a beautiful June evening. The wait for our cab wasn't too long, and soon we arrived outside of Gotham's Club Soda – a moderately priced club with good, strong drinks if you get the right bartender. It's nowhere near as glamorous as some of the other clubs in Downtown, but it was always a perfect spot for the two of us to hang out and blow off some steam.

We entered the club, the bass of a song reverberating throughout the building and my body. We step over to a table and are soon greeted by a waiter.

"Hey, Evange, Devyn, what are we getting tonight?"

"The usual, please," I respond.

"House salad, no egg with ranch?"

"That's right."

"Alright, and what about you?" he turns to Dev.

"Tomato mozzarella panini, please."

"Alrighty, coming right up," he smiles. "Can I get you ladies anything to drink?"

"Double whiskey sour," we both say at the same time.

The waiter chuckles and writes the order down and walks away.

"I didn't know that was on the menu," I smile, referring to the panini.

"Oh, it's so good, you gotta try it," she gushes.

The two of us spent a nice, relaxing evening out, the threat of the Joker once again loose in Gotham City forgotten. We drank, we danced, and we chatted just like best friends and sisters not by blood would. We drank perhaps too much, but we decided to let go and not stress about it since neither of us had to work the next day.

We sat at our table sipping our whiskey sours, completely oblivious to the world for the moment.

In another portion of Gotham, the Joker sat, brooding.

"Mr. J?" a feminine voice tainted with a Brooklyn accent reached his ears.

"Harley!" he stood, stretching his arms, enveloping the red and black clad woman in his arms.

"Whatcha doin', Puddin'?"

"Planning," he simply responded.

"Ooh, planning on takin' down Batsy?"

"In time," he not-so-gently patted her head.

"So what do we do now?"

"Us – we're gonna be royalty. No one will dare stand in our way."

Harley squealed and clapped her hands in delight before running out of the room.

Joker laughed darkly to himself as he thought about how Harley Quinn came to be. She had disguised herself as an inmate at Arkham Asylum in order to understand the criminals that she had 'helped' as a psychiatrist. Even the Warden had allowed it under the pretense of telling no one else. Joker had spotted her and quickly figured out that she was Doctor Harleen Quinzel – his own psychiatrist. The Clown Prince of Crime had chosen his partner. She had quickly become infatuated with the Joker, of which he took some pride in, and then she had changed. She was no longer the Arkham Asylum psychiatrist – she was the one who would need a psychiatrist instead. When the jig was up, after the Warden war murdered, her plan had been exposed to the new Warden, but she didn't go down without one hell of a fight; no, she shot up some guards and freed the Joker along with her. But then as a token of his thanks, Joker had thrown the woman into a vat of chemicals that made her truly become and look the way she did now – the bleached skin similar to his own, her hair permanently changing colors.

The thought and the memory of the experience made Joker throw his head back and laugh crazily into the night, his cackling echoing through the empty warehouse.

The Batman was out on the prowl that very same night, looking for anything that would help him get a lead on the Joker's location. The Bat Signal was out of commission, since Gordon had destroyed it after the events of Harvey Dent and the Batman 'officially' becoming an outlaw vigilante. However, the Commissioner and Batman still had a means of communication – just one phone number that reaches Batman directly. Batman glided over the city to the building's rooftop where he would meet the Commissioner; an old building near GCPD and actually on top of the Police Department's Major Crimes Unit (MCU) building.

Commissioner Gordon stood alone for the next second on the roof of the MCU building, waiting for the Batman. He had his usual cup of coffee and he stood watching and waiting for the arrival of the Bat.

Batman easily spotted him and silently landed on the roof before just as silently walking up to the Police Commissioner.

"Commissioner," he rasped.

Gordon jumped slightly. "Damn it, you're never going to just announce that you're here, will you?"

Gordon was met with a silent gaze, a small smirk playing on the half of the Dark Knight's lips. He calmed his heart rate before diving into the situation at hand: Joker's escape.

"Joker's escape was coordinated from the inside," Gordon began. "When we went over the tapes, a woman was the one who had set him free."

He handed a file over to Batman so he could examine it. He saw a photo of the woman setting the Joker free, her back turned to the camera. The grin on Joker's face nearly sent a shiver down Batman's spine; he's once again looking for the man who had killed the once love of his life – Rachel Dawes. He did his best to keep any and all emotion out of his features as he thumbed through the file. Finally, there's a photo of the woman facing the camera as she and Joker escaped from Arkham Asylum.

"Doctor Harleen Quinzel," Batman read aloud. "I'll find her, and I'll find Joker," he declared darkly. "They won't get away, Gordon."

Gordon nodded his head. "I know you'll get them. I just don't want a repeat of the last time," he heaved a sigh, running his free hand through his hair.

"I won't let that happen," he handed the file back to Gordon, his memory absorbing every detail and sentence of the file itself.

Without saying another word, or waiting to hear Gordon's response, Batman silently turned around and threw himself off of the roof, activating the memory technology in his cape; he glided over the city, cloaked in the darkness as he began his search for Harleen Quinzel.

Devyn and I half-stumbled out of the club that night, the cool air hitting us and slightly sobering us up.

"You called our cab, right?" I slightly slurred.

"Of course – I'm a good friend, and good friends call cabs," she slurred back, slinging an arm around my shoulder.

We laughed into the night, not noticing just how empty the streets were at 1:30 in the morning.

"Well, hello, ladies," a voice purrs from a short distance away. The voice pulls our attention to the man wearing a hoodie and a pair of jeans, the hood pulled up over his head and his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans.

"Care to have a little fun?" he doesn't even try to hide the suggestion.

"I dun think so," I curse in my mind, hearing my words slur slightly still.

"Yeah, we're jus' headin' home," Devyn slurs but tries to look like she's serious by folding her arms in front of her.

"Oh, but two beautiful women, and just one man – we could have a whole lot of fun," he began walking toward us quickly.

"Not interested," I state, the adrenaline beginning to run through my veins and sober me up.

"Oh really?" he then grinned evilly and pulled out a knife, the light from the streetlight above glinting on the sharp-looking blade.

"Run!" I shout, turning to grab Devyn's arm.

We go to sprint down the street, but my injured ankle hampers my movement just enough for the man to grab me by the arm. I whirl back around and find myself face-to-face with the man.

"Let me go!" I shout, moving to hit him, but he grabs my wrist tightly and squeezes. I wince in response.

"You shouldn't fight it," he looks past my shoulder and look too to see Devyn running around the corner.

Please, please call the police…!

I'm thrown back to reality when I'm suddenly thrown into the alleyway. I try to scramble to my feet, but the man pushes me chest-first into the brick wall. I feel his body press into my back and his hand snakes around my waist. I whimper.

"Please, don't do this," I try to speak with conviction.

Another hand wraps itself around my throat and I feel the man's body press closer to my own, particularly his pelvis.

"Please," I whisper.

"You're going to enjoy this – too bad we don't have your friend here, too," his breath grazes my throat sending chills down my spine and I squirm in his grasp.

Unfortunately the movement only seems to arouse him even more, and his hand begins to undo my jean shorts. A few tears silently slide down my cheeks.

"Please, no," I choke out a cry, my voice louder than I thought it could be at the moment.

Suddenly the man's weight disappears from my back, the cool air making the difference striking. I whirl around and see what looks like barely a shadow standing over the man, now unconscious. Batman.

The Caped Crusader had saved me. I wanted to move to him to thank him, but my legs suddenly gave out on me and I fell to the cold, hard concrete ground. The sound didn't go unnoticed by my rescuer, as he then turned around to face me and quickly strode over to me.

"Are you alright?" his deep, raspy voice asked me.

I could only breathlessly nod, my mind still comprehending it all. I look over to the man.

"He was… he tried to… I was gonna…" I stammer, tears brimming in my eyes.

"It's okay. You're okay," his eyes gazed at me, looking me over. His dark eyes met my own.

"I… I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't shown up," I grimace.

I'm met with a small half-smile as I absent-mindedly rub my arm where he had grabbed me so hard.

His eyes look to my arm, and he gently pulls my hand away to examine my arm. But before he can say anything more to me, the sound of a police car's sirens approach.

"You should go," I turn back to him, the sound pulling my gaze from him. But when I turned back around, I didn't expect him to leave as silently and quickly as he did. I only caught a fleeting glance of the Dark Knight's cape just tapering off of the building that I'm sitting against for support.

"Thank you," I whispered to the air around me.


	4. Chapter 4

I only gave a statement to the police officer that came and took away the man who had tried to rape me since I wasn't actually harmed. Devyn had actually gotten around the corner and was dialing 911 the whoe way, and notified them of the situation.

"So how did he wind up unconscious?"

 _Oh, boy._

"It was Batman. He saved me."

The officer flinched slightly. "Did you see which way he went?"

"Look, I've kind of been through a lot tonight – you expected me to keep track of him?"

The officer peered at me, narrowing her eyes slightly.

"Yes, actually."

 _Damn._

"I don't know which way he went – he just went… up," I shrug.

"Up," she repeated.

"Yeah. Up."

The officer sighed. "Alright, well, if you're sure you're unharmed, you can go. Your friend looks like she's ready to go."

Devyn was standing there waiting for me, her arms crossed over her chest and one foot propped up against the brick wall.

"Yeah," I nod.

"Okay. Take care of yourself. If you remember anything that you need to tell us, feel free to call GCPD and ask for me, okay?"

"I will, thanks."

At that point, I turn around and walk over to Devyn, who gently pushes herself off of the wall and envelopes me in a hug.

"I'm sorry I left you – I shouldn't've left you," she suddenly burst into tears, her body shaking.

I wrap my arms around my best friend.

"It's okay – I'm okay. Thanks to Batman, I'm okay," I try to console her. "But it _has_ been one hell of a day… Let's get out of here, okay?"

Dev only nods her head and releases her grip on me and we walk down the street to an awaiting cab.

We climb inside and I shiver, laying my head on Dev's shoulder.

The cab ride lasts a long time to me, and we step out in front of my apartment complex and then walk into my unit together. I sling my purse down onto the floor and reach up to feel for the small reassurance I get from my mother's necklace.

But my hand only grazed across my bare skin; I feel around my throat just to see if it had just moved, but it's nowhere to be felt. My mother's sapphire necklace is gone.

"No…!" I cry. A stream of tears runs down my face, just as Devyn rounds the corner from exiting from my bathroom to change into pajamas that I had lent her.

"Eve? What's wrong?" she asked me.

"M-mom's necklace…! It's gone!" I sobbed. "That guy must have taken it from me!"

"Eve, calm down, we'll find it!" Devyn tried to reassure me. "I'll go back there tomorrow in the daylight and look for it, okay? I promise."

"But…" I began.

"Eve, it's dangerous to go out there…" she sighed and half-whispered.

"That's all I have left of her!" I shouted, my hand slamming into the wall with a loud thud. Sobs rack my body. "We never should have gone out."

I fell to the carpeted floor and sobbed, the arms of my best friend and sister wrapped around me to comfort me.

Batman only went up to the roof of the building that Evangeline had been against. He didn't want to leave her in such a vulnerable position by herself. Soon enough a police officer parked their squad car and exited the car, making him crouch down to be closer to the lip of the building to be closer to the darkness.

The officer is there about ten minutes, and takes a statement from Miss Price and hauls the still-unconscious man in the back of her police cruiser. Batman watches as another woman, who he assumes to be Price's friend, hugs her tightly and then they share some words before walking down the street. He observed the scene of Evangeline's assault, and a glimmer of light caught his eye; a sparkle from something down on the ground.

After ensuring that he was entirely alone, he swooped down and landed silently on the ground. He stooped and searched down on the ground for the source of the sparkle and found a platinum chain with a small sapphire pendant that is encrusted with very small diamonds. He delicately picked up the piece of jewelry between his fingers and examined it, figuring that it must have belonged to Evangeline.

Despite the situation, he now had another reason to find Evangeline Price, and he smiled bitterly. He secured the pendant in a compartment in his utility belt and then took off to resume his nightly patrol of Gotham City. After all, he still had a certain madman to find before he caused too much chaos in his city.

Batman took out his grappling gun and shoot it up to the eaves of the roof of the building that he was just on. The wire carries him gracefully back up, the cape billowing slightly around him in the wind. He then wastes no time in running across the roof and then soaring from one rooftop to the next before throwing himself off of another and gliding to the ground where the awaiting Tumbler resides. He punched in the access code and the roof slid open, allowing him to enter.

The Tumbler is a magnificent piece of technology that Fox had let him use, along with many other pieces of technology that Fox himself had designed just for Bruce's use; even if he did have to make up excuses such as going spelunking or BASE jumping. Billionaire playboys will be billionaire playboys, with too much money and too much time on their hands, people had assumed. But no, not Bruce Wayne. Bruce was too busy dedicating himself trying to save the city that he had grown up in, the city that broke him, and the city that had made him a legend. Even though Batman had been declared an outlaw vigilante, he knew he still had a job to do; nothing was going to get in the way of that. He just had to make sure that he got in and out quickly and without being noticed.

The Tumbler roared to life and immediately gunned down the back roads of Gotham's Midtown. He decided to go North, toward Uptown. He passed by 52nd Street, the place where everything fell apart; the place where his lifelong friend and love of his life Rachel Dawes had been murdered by the Joker. 250 52nd Street. The place where Bruce Wayne succumbed to depression afterward; the pain was still there and he was still slightly numb, but something was changing.

He only glanced at the location as he sped by, feeling a slight twinge of sadness and grief. But he quickly wiped any emotion away and resumed his quest to find the Joker or this Harleen Quinzel character. Hell, he wanted to find anyone even remotely affiliated with the Joker.

Batman gripped the steering control of the Tumbler a bit tighter and pressed the accelerator forward even more, the speed increasing. Along the way, Bruce thought about different manners in which he could return the necklace to Evangeline Price – but only one idea truly seemed like it would still be conspicuous but still work.

But for now, he had a job to do.

I awaken on my bed, a blanket gently draped over me. I sit up, looking at the bedside clock: 9 a.m. I push the blanket off of me and step into the adjoining living room. There I see Devyn still asleep on my sofa. I lean against the doorjamb, the memories of last night flooding back – how she comforted me after everything was over, especially when I found out that I had lost my mom's necklace. The thought makes me sigh lightly, and I make my way to the kitchen to start frying some eggs and bacon for breakfast. I turn on the small 13-inch TV that's on the counter in my kitchen and flip through the channels.

 _"…_ _it has been discovered that the Joker has escaped from Arkham due to the assistance of Doctor Harleen Quinzel,"_ a picture of the woman appears in a box next to the newscaster. _"If anyone has any information on the location of either Doctor Quinzel or the Joker, they are urged to call Gotham Police Department immediately."_

So that's what happened. That's how Joker was set free. I leaned against the counter absorbing the situation; it was an inside job then.

 _"_ _The Joker also launched an attack on a market in Coventry yesterday, prompting the arrival of emergency responders, but it seems as though Batman was nowhere to be found."_

Why are they complaining about that? According to them he's just someone who's an outlaw. The sound of feet making their way into the kitchen startles me slightly.

"Why do they care about if he was there or not?" Devyn echoes my thoughts.

"That's what I was wondering," I return to making breakfast.

"Well, he saved you so he's good in my book."

I chuckle. "Unfortunately I don't think just one circumstance is going to change Gotham's mind."

"Yeah, you're right… So what did he do? How did he save you?"

I don't turn around, focusing on making breakfast and I hear Dev pull out of my bar stools.

"I didn't really see it. My chest was to the wall, and the next thing I knew the guy was just… gone. I turned around and saw him a few feet away out cold on the ground. Batman came over to check if I was okay, but then the police arrived not even a minute later so he left."

"C'mon, you had to see something on the man," Dev goaded me.

I laugh. "He did have really striking eyes. They were so dark that they looked black."

"Ooh, don't tell me you're going to fall for the Bat," she teased.

I scoff. "Please. I'm grateful, no doubt, but I'm not falling for him."

I plate the finished bacon and eggs and move to sit next to her.

"Although, what I am concerned about is how that man is doing after Joker's attack yesterday," I snatch a piece of bacon off of my plate and chew it.

"Then go check on him – since you weren't on the clock, there's nothing wrong with that."

"Would it be weird, though? Just going to Wayne Manor and being all like 'Oh, I just wanted to see how you were doing?'"

"I think it would be really nice, and it's something that you'd definitely do. You care about the people we help, Eve. It's one of your absolute best qualities."

"Aw, thanks," I smile genuinely.

"Seriously – go for it. What's the worst thing that could happen?"

And so, about two hours later, I was driving my car through Gotham in order to get to the outskirts to get to Wayne Manor. Thank God for Google Maps otherwise I may not have found it through all of the twists and turns. I pull up to the gate around the perimeter of the manor and the speaker crackles to life.

"Wayne Manor, how may I help you?" a voice with an English accent that I recognized speaks.

"Mr. Pennyworth? It's Evangeline Price – I was at Coventry yesterday."

"Oh, Miss Price, come in, come in."

A low buzz echoes as the gate unlocks and the gate swings open enough for me to enter. I drive carefully up the gravel driveway and completely marvel over the sheer size of the mansion in front of me. I pull my car off to the side, shutting down the engine and then step out, suddenly feeling remarkably under dressed in my jeans, polo, and ballet flats.

"Miss Price, it's good to see you," the man descends two stairs toward me.

"It's good to see you too, Mr. Pennyworth," I extend my hand to shake his.

He gently envelops mine in a firm handshake.

"Please just call me Alfred, Miss. Please come inside, I was just preparing lunch for Master Wayne."

I falter on a step, butterflies soaring in my stomach at the mention of Bruce.

Alfred opens one of the two doors to enter the manor and I can't help but ogle at the sight. I let out a small half-laugh in disbelief.

"Wow," I breathe. I walk to the bannister of a staircase near me and gently run my hand over the smooth wooden railing.

"Might I escort you to the dining room, Miss Price?"

"Thank you, Alfred, but I came to see how you were doing after yesterday."

"Oh, I'm doing quite well, Miss Price. The wound was only quite superficial, and only left a few bruises. I'm quite resilient," he winks.

"Evangeline Price, right?"

I turned my head 90 degrees to the top of the staircase, where Bruce Wayne himself was standing.

"I, uh- yes, that's right, Bruce," I stammer.

He quickly descends the staircase and walks toward Alfred and I.

"Alfred, could you prepare three places instead of two?" he looks to Alfred with a small smile.

"Of course, sir."

"Oh, no, Bruce that's not necessary," I hastily try to stop him, feeling like I'm intruding.

"I never got to properly thank you for what you did for Alfred yesterday. Please stay?"

I sigh quietly in defeat. "Okay."

I see a smile tug at Bruce's lips, and I can't help but smile, too.

"Would you care to have a tour?"

"Sure, I've only ever heard about this place… Never imagined I would actually be in it," I laugh.

Bruce chuckles and offers his arm in a gentlemanly fashion. I loop my arm around his, my forearm resting against his. The small gesture sent a blush dancing to my face, something that I know Bruce saw just by the smirk on his face.

Bruce took me a quick tour of the interior of the Manor before we stepped outside to the large garden and even bigger yard. The garden held an array of meticulously taken care of flora and even a small fountain and a bench. The exterior wall around the yard is a beautifully built brick wall with some ivy slowly crawling up the edifice.

"This is beautiful," I breathe, looking at all of the flowers and I step away from Bruce. "And very high maintenance," I laugh.

"I have only the best to take care of it. My own little way of remembering my mother."

I smile sadly to Bruce, who now wore a bitter smirk on his face.

I step further away from Bruce, my fingers tracing the petals of a crimson red rose.

"Memories are the most important things. Without them we're nothing – no one. But they're complicated little things; they can drive you to do good or bad."

Through my peripheral vision, I see Bruce cock his head to the side slightly while he watches me.

"Sorry," I apologize.

"Don't be. It's alright."

Bruce was suddenly nearer to me, and I stepped back slightly in surprise.

He sends me an apologetic look, but then his gaze falls to my arm where a nasty bruise started to form.

"What happened?" he gestures to my arm.

"I… got into some trouble last night," I vaguely answer, looking away from Bruce.

"Are you okay?" Bruce actually sounded… concerned.

My head turns back to him after a moment, and I shrug my shoulders.

"I don't know. I mean, I am physically, but…"

I unconsciously feel a few tears brim and one slips down my cheek. He quickly envelopes me in a hug before either of us realize what we're even doing. But there's a sense of comfort in his arms, something that makes me think of last night; I should have felt nervous or intimidated by Batman last night, but I wasn't. Now here in Bruce's arms, I felt the same way.

I wipe away my spilled tears and will myself to stop crying, successfully doing so.

"I'm sorry," I apologize.

"It's okay. You're safe," Bruce's eyes meet mine. A beautiful tone of hazel.

I smile bitterly at Bruce, but the sound of a man clearing his throat pulls our attention toward the sound.

Alfred stood there with a slightly amused half-grin on his face as Bruce and I jumped apart.

"Lunch is ready, Master Wayne, Miss Price," he says, keeping the half-grin on his face before doing an about face and walking back to the Manor.

I blush at the fact that we had been caught like that, but Bruce seemed to brush it off like it was nothing. He offers his arm to me again, and we reenter Wayne Manor.

The dining room is large and spacious, with a large table and two settings placed across from the other. Bruce leads me to a hciar like a gentleman and I seat myself, he seats himself and Alfred promptly brings out our lunch: a serving of Caesar salad with shredded chicken on top.

"Will you be joining us, Alfred?" I ask, taking my fork in my hand.

I see Bruce raise his gaze to me from across the table.

"No, Miss, I wouldn't want to intrude."

"Oh, Alfred, it's alright. She came to see you in the first place, after all," Bruce adds.

Alfred concedes defeat. "Very well."

Lunch is fairly quiet until Bruce clears his throat.

"So, Alfred told me that you're a paramedic?"

"Yeah, I worked my way up in the ranks here. Turns out Gotham isn't exactly the most diverse in emergency responders when it comes to one's sex."

"Really?" Bruce asks, intrigued.

I nod. "Yeah, in my station it's literally just me and my best friend, Devyn as the two females."

"Which station?"

"Seventeen. I responded to Arkham two nights ago."

Bruce nearly drops his fork. "You did?"

"Yep. And Gotham lost another citizen thanks to that psychopath, Joker that night. We could only save one of them."

Bruce and Alfred send me sympathetic looks.

"I worked on him for ten minutes to bring him back, and in the end I failed."

I smiled bitterly and stabbed my fork into the romaine lettuce.

"I'm sure you did your best, Evangeline."

I sigh, but my ringtone on my phone from my pocket ends our conversation.

'Home Sweet Home' – it's Station 17.

"Do you mind if I take this?"

"Not at all. Go ahead."

"Thank you," I rise from the table and connect the phone call. "Price."

"Price, its Flanch," Battalion Chief Reed Flanch – oh good. "We've got an emergency here – I know you were supposed to have three days off, but…"

"No, it's okay. What happened?"

"Another attack from Joker – this time, it's huge. I know you got hurt in the attack yesterday, but…"

How did he know that? I shake my head and respond.

I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Be there in 20."

"Thanks, Price. I'll make sure you get overtime for this."

The phone call disconnects, and I reenter the dining room where now only Bruce is sitting in the seat.

"Is everything okay?"

"I'm sorry, Bruce, but I've gotta go."

"Hey, no problem. But would it be presumptuous if I asked you for your number?"

I quirk one of my eyebrows in response, surprised.

"O-of course not, Bruce," I smile and jot down my cell phone number and hand it to him.

We share a smile and then I half-walk/half-run to the front door and fling it open and sprint down the stairs and to my car.

Bruce watched the plume of dirt from the gravel driveway soar into the air as Evangeline tore out of the driveway and out onto the main road. He looked back down at the piece of paper in his hand with the young woman's phone number on it and he smiled. He quickly took out his phone from his pocket and created the contact for her.

"Master Wayne," Alfred called to him. "There's been another attack, sir. Much bigger than the last."

Bruce turned around to face the elder butler and together the two stepped back into the Manor and into the large room where a television was broadcasting live. They sit and watch the scene unfold for about ten minutes, sitting in stunned and saddened silence.

"If you're just joining us, we're looking live at the scene in the Upper West Side – where the Joker and Harley Quinn are wreaking havoc. Emergency responders are now arriving on the scene, with more arriving with each passing minute. Only those emergency responders are being allowed access into the area, and the media have even been pushed back – this is as close as they'll let us."

Behind the reporter, a scene of chaos is unfolding; a large inferno and the outlines of people running away from the scene. The screams of the people nearly drown out the reporters.

Bruce and Alfred both wince at the situation.

"He's testing me. He knows I won't go out during the day."

"Sir, if I may, perhaps the police and fire brigade will appreciate your efforts this time. Maybe you should go."

Bruce turned and looked at the butler, his mouth slightly agape.

"You're right."

He stood and walked across the manor to the study.

It's time Batman stepped into the daylight once again.

I sprint into Station 17 and check in with Chief Flanch.

"Thank God you're here, Price. Thanks again for coming in. It's all hands on deck."

It was slightly chaotic in the station, many of us running around making sure that all of our med bags were properly stocked for any situation. All of us clambered into ambulances and we all took off toward the Upper West Side.

As we got closer, the scene just got more and more chaotic. As soon as the ambulances parked, we paramedics sprinted out of the backs and close to the police cars. We're briefed as to what's going on and are instructed to strictly focus and search and find and set up an emergency triage center. Nearly everyone in Station 17 enters the scene, our med bags slung over our shoulder. I toss mine over my neck so that I can actually run should I need to. The smoke rising from the inferno in front of us grows.

"What the hell happened here?" I ask to no one in particular.

The large fire obscured the building, smoldering and scattered debris littered the pavement around us.

Chief Flanch barked out an order to get a triage set up while half of us went out with the firefighters to find victims.

I wound up in the group to find the victims, and we are each instructed to take one section of a building and then move to another to comb it over. Jonathon and I partner up and begin to search through two near-by buildings.

"Hello? Paramedics! Is anyone in here?" I shout into the building, a large home with about a third of the home destroyed. Smoke billows into the rubble and through the blown-out portion of the house.

"In here…!" A small voice cries out.

I step into the building, the creaking of the floor boards momentarily drowning out the outside noise.

"Be careful, Evange – that place could go any second."

I turn back to Jon and nod, acknowledging his comment. "You, too, you know."

I climb into the building.

"Hold on! I'm coming!" I shout.

I come across a shut door and I move to open it, but it's jammed shut. I throw my shoulder into the door in order to loosen it, but I can't get it to budge.

"Help me!" the voice calls out from the room.

"The door's jammed, can you unblock it?"

"I can't move!"

"Okay, don't worry, I'll find a way in!"

"Hurry!"

I shoulder charge the door twice before it finally gives and I enter the room. But I wasn't expecting the sight that awaited me. Not. At. All.


	5. Chapter 5

I barged into the room where I had heard someone cry for help, but I definitely didn't expect what was awaiting for me. A woman dressed in a pair of jeans and a black shirt with red sleeves was kneeling beside a man on the ground.

I narrowed my eyes in confusion, taking in the scene.

"Glad you're here, sweetie, ya see, my friend here needs some help."

The man near her looked as though he struggled to breathe.

"And you're gonna help 'im, understand?" She asked me with an accent that suggested that she was from Brooklyn.

"Of course I will."

I approach the woman and the man, kneeling down beside the man on the opposite side of the woman. The eccentric looking makeup only slightly distracted me.

"I got the debris off'a 'im, but I jus' don' know," the woman teared up.

"Sir, I'm a paramedic, I'm going to help you."

"Oh, uh, I don't know if you can help me," he darkly commented.

"Don't say that. You're going to be okay."

"No you see," the man suddenly sits up despite my efforts and takes off an incredibly well-disguised mask, revealing jagged scars around the corners of his mouth. "I'm just great!"

I gasped and recoiled in fear, backing away in a crab-walk like fashion. I watch as the Joker and the woman stand and walk over to me, towering over my body.

"Hey, you're the same girl from the market yesterday," Joker commented, kneeling beside me.

I whimper and try to press further into the wall.

"Oh, sh, sh, sh, sh, don't be scared. Not yet."

He pulls out a switchblade and fiddles with it in front of me.

"You see, you know the Bat – don't try to deny it. I saw how he, uh, oh-so gallantly saved you last night."

I swallow hard, a lump in my throat.

"I just want Batman – he's just as crazy as the rest of us, you know," he begins laughing halfway through his sentence.

"What makes you think I know him personally?"

"Hmm… let's call it a hunch," the blade nears my mouth, and he stuffs something into the breast pocket of my uniformed shirt.

"I swear, I don't know him! He's only saved me the one time, that's it!" the blade tugs at the corner of my mouth. "I swear!"

The blade digs into my lip slightly, and I taste the blood and try not to wince.

"Harley?" Joker brings his attention away from me as he looks toward the woman behind him.

Harley? Who the hell is Harley?

Joker's head nods in my direction. "It's time for someone to, uh – take a nap. Permanently," he added with a chortle.

Before I know it, a baseball bat is swinging in the direction of my head. The contact of the solid wood makes me collapse, black spots dancing in my vision. The last thing that I hear is Joker cackling as darkness consumes me, and the building begins to burn.

Batman was in the Tumbler on his way to the Upper West Side. He knew that the situation was bad, and Alfred was updating him along the way. He expertly navigated the large tank-like vehicle around the streets and back alleys of Gotham, the flowing reds and oranges of the inferno and the smoke guiding him.

He parked the Tumbler about three blocks away, on the opposite side of where emergency responders were gathered, in a very dark, secluded alleyway. As soon as he got out and secured the Tumbler with his credentials, the grappling gun carried him to the rooftop above.

The scene was worse than he had imagined. Flames licked the sky, destroying buildings and lives as they went. He could hear shouting from emergency responders on the scene as well as from people who may have been trapped inside their homes when the explosion occurred. He sprinted off of the roof and leaped through the air to another, repeating the process several times as he neared the fire.

It was utter chaos below him, with nearly every fire truck, ambulance, and police officer in Gotham City responding to the Upper West Side; the efforts were nearly futile in keeping bystanders calm and orderly. Panicked shouts and shrieks of people looking for loved ones and pets filled the skies as the media swarmed around the area.

Batman silently crept down from the roof and began a sweep of nearby buildings that were unoccupied by the first responders looking for anyone, anything that may have been missed.

"Where are you?!" Batman hears someone shout, so he steps into the shadows.

He sees a man in a paramedic's uniform wildly looking around. He catches a glimpse of the patch, noticing that it's Station 17; Evangeline's station that she works for.

"Jon! What are you doing?" a voice screams to the man. Batman peers around the corner and sees that it's the same woman that was with Evangeline last night. She's a paramedic, too, he notes by the uniform.

"Evange went in that building and hasn't come out yet – I'm going in after her."

But before either of them can make a move, a portion of the building blows out, leaving glass shatter all around the building.

"You have to get out of here!" a firefighter runs up to the two and pulls them away.

"No! No! My best friend is in there!" Batman watches as the woman releases herself from the firefighter's grip, tears brimming in her eyes.

"Devyn!" Batman listens as Jon and the firefighter run after her and grab her securely before she half-collapses into their arms.

"EVANGELINE!" she screams into the burning building, tears streaming down her face.

Batman's feet carry him into the building from the rear, avoiding the gazes of the three people from the front; he avoided all attention as he entered the burning home. On the inside, it's complete chaos. Smoke fills nearly every inch of the home, and flames are spreading quickly. He quickly searches around the building, relying on his impeccable hearing for any indication of Evangeline's presence. He spots a door that looks like it's been caved in, and decides to check there.

Upon entering the room, he immediately sets out searching for the woman. He flips over debris, looking for any sign of her. A medical bag catches his eye, and he knows he's on the right track. But it's what's scattered around the bag itself that makes his stomach churn: Joker playing cards, and lots of them. He's the one behind this – she must have been tricked into thinking that someone was trapped in the building. Batman clenched his fists tightly and resumed his search for Evangeline. A glimmer catches his eye as he turns around, and he sees Evangeline slumped over in a corner far away from her bag in an awkward position; her torso and her arms spread on the floor and her legs bent at the knees like she was crouched in the corner, trying to get away, but her legs fell to the side. He raced over to her and immediately felt for a pulse; he found a weak one, to his concern. He gently picked her up in a bridal style just as more debris fell around them. He turned around to sprint outside of the burning building, Evangeline secure in his arms.

The two of them escaped the building just in time, as the edifice blew out and glass shattered all around them; Batman pulled his cape over Evangeline to protect her from the sharp, falling debris.

"Get outta there!" he heard a commotion from the front side of the building.

"Search the building for any survivors! And God damn it, get this damn fire out!"

Batman knew he had to get Evangeline to medical attention, but he didn't know what to do, he was torn; does he risk taking her himself to the police and risk getting arrested himself? Or does he take care of her himself? Batman clenched his jaw while he thought about his decision. Groaning slightly, he made his choice.

He sprinted back toward the line of emergency responders, Evangeline safe and secure in his arms. He knew deep down that he had to get her safe and taken care of; he could have done it, but he also knew that if he had brought her back with him it just would have caused more problems down the road.

He raced around toward the front of the burning building that he had rescued Evangeline from, and was greeted with the sight of numerous firefighters and a handful of police officers, but there was only one in particular that he was looking for: Gordon. Soon though, he spotted the man's trademark mustache, and then he quickly sent a message to Gordon through his wristlet computer to meet him around the corner.

Batman tucked himself around the corner in the shadows and waited for Jim. He quickly appeared, and took one look at Batman before noticing the woman in his arms.

"God, what happened to her?" Gordon asked.

"Joker. I think he tricked her into believing someone was trapped in that building," he responded, handing Evangeline over to Gordon.

"We'll take care of her. But you," Gordon brought his focus back upwards, but noticed that Batman was gone already. "…Should get out of here," he sighed, a joker playing card falling to the ground.

* * *

I know this chapter is much shorter than my others, but I wasn't sure how to divvy up this chapter and the next one since I liked how this one kind of resolved itself.


	6. Chapter 6

Before we delve back into the story, I just want to say a huge THANK YOU to all of you who have favorited and/or followed my story and for the reviews! You guys are amazing, and I'm so glad to have received so much feedback already! 3

* * *

Batman watched from above as Evangeline was placed into Gordon's squad car. The ambulances were full, and her condition wasn't nearly as severe as most of the others who were at the scene of Joker's and Harley's chaos. As Gordon departed the scene, he followed the car leaping from building to building in the process from the Upper West Side to the edge of South Midtown. He couldn't afford to have anyone know that he was following them, so he left the secured Tumbler behind. The sounds of the sirens and shouts were fading as Batman tailed Gordon, and he prayed silently that she would be okay.

She just had to be okay.

* * *

Gordon drove at breakneck speeds with his lights and siren on, urging traffic to part. He sped to the nearby hospital, Mercy. Gotham General and Gotham Memorial were nearing code black, meaning that they were running out of capacity and medical supplies; so Gordon decided to take the unconscious woman in the passenger seat to a less-occupied hospital that's still in a decent part of town.

Mercy Hospital immediately took her in, concerned that she was still unconscious. Gordon worried for her, Gotham couldn't afford to lose another one of its emergency responders what with the Joker once again on the prowl. He paced the waiting room slightly, anticipation causing him to be anxious.

Gordon's work phone rang, announcing a text message. He checked it quickly, and saw that he was needed back in the Upper West Side. He grimaced, knowing that now he would have to leave Price behind. He silently, mentally said a prayer that she would be safe here at Mercy, and he tore out of the building.

* * *

I vaguely recalled my arm being lifted, and what felt like a blood pressure cuff slipped over my forearm up to my arm. The tightening, similar to a tourniquet, only confirmed my suspicion. I tried to open my eyes, but it felt as though everything was incredibly heavy – like I had just been thrown in front of a semi. But a memory suddenly snaps to my mind: the woman that tricked me coming toward me with a baseball bat. My eyes suddenly opened wide, making the nurse taking my blood pressure jump a little. I'm in a sterile looking, plain room decorated with stainless steel canisters and sink, with a calming very light blue color on the walls.

"Where am I?" I hear myself slur like I'm drunk.

"You're at Mercy Hospital, sweetie," she responds slowly. "Do you remember anything?"

"Only getting hit in the head," I groan.

She nods, but I perceive it to be in slow-motion.

"Your heart rate and blood pressure look good," she smiled at me. "Can you tell me who you are?"

"Evangeline Price," I slur. "I'm a paramedic in Gotham."

The nurse's eyes brighten and she smiles again.

"Doctor Holly will be in in just a moment, okay?"

I nod, but the movement causes my head to hurt; I wince and shut my eyes in response.

About five minutes later, there's a knock on the door.

"Miss Price?" A man pokes his head into the room.

"Yes?"

I watch as the man enters the room, pulling the door shut behind him.

"I'm Doctor Holly, I'm going to be taking care of you today. Heather took your vitals for me, and they look good. I'm concerned about the fact that you may have a concussion, however. So, we're going to do a few tests to check that out, okay?"

So, I'm urged to change out of my current clothes and to take off my jewelry. Next I'm delicately moved into a wheelchair and am wheeled down a hallway a couple of minutes later, heading to the MRI so that they can rule out any serious bleeding and confirm a concussion.

The procedure is slow, taking about 25 minutes, and then confirms what the doctor had believed: it's a concussion.

So a little while later as I'm being discharged I run into a snag.

"Alright, sweetie," the nurse from earlier, Heather, enters the room with my official discharge papers. "Do you have someone coming to pick you up?"

Oh. Oh, shit, how did I not think about that? How on earth *am* I going to get home?

"I'll try my friends."

"You don't have any family around here?" she sends me a slightly sympathetic look, but the comment still stings.

"No, I don't," I sigh, pulling my phone toward me.

I dial Devyn's number first, but I immediately am sent to her voicemail. I try Jon next, but I get the same result after it rings a few times.

 _Well, there is one more person I could try…_ I scroll through my contacts, looking for one name in particular.

Maybe it would be too forward, but maybe he could help…? I scroll toward the bottom of my phone's contacts, searching until I finally find myself in the 'W's.

 _Bruce Wayne._

* * *

He had been brooding once again, worried about how Evangeline was faring. Did she get ambushed in the hospital? Is she seriously hurt? The phone rang in Wayne Manor, and brought Bruce's senses back to reality.

"Wayne Manor, how may I help you?" he heard Alfred answer the phone.

"Miss Price, yes of course. Just one moment."

 _Price? Evangeline?_

Bruce rose to his feet, ignoring the pang of his sore feet. He really needed to get boots with better support. He walked out of the sitting room and toward the parlor, where one of the phones were located. Alfred handed him the phone.

"Bruce Wayne."

"B-Bruce? H-hey, it's Evangeline."

She was slurring like she were drunk, Bruce noted.

"Is everything okay?"

"Uh, well, kind of…? I'm at the hospital."

"The hospital?"

"Yeah, and I need a ride home. I know it's forward, and you can say no, but…"

Bruce couldn't help but half-smile and let out a small one-beat laugh. "No, it's okay. Which hospital?"

"Mercy Hospital. Thank you, Bruce."

"I'll see you soon."

He disconnected the call, placing the cordless phone back onto the receiver.

"I'll go fetch the car, sir."

It was about a 15-minute drive from Wayne Manor to Mercy Hospital in the Burnley District in Uptown. Alfred pulled up the car in front of the hospital, allowing Bruce to exit the Bentley. He quickly ascended the steps and entered the building.

As soon as he entered, he could feel the gaze of many people whilst he strode over to the receptionist's desk.

"How may I help you?" the man responded, not even looking up.

"I'm here for Evangeline Price," Bruce cooly responded.

The receptionist raised his head, his eyes bugging out slightly.

"I'll page a nurse and let them know that you're here, Mr. Wayne. For now, please have a seat."

Bruce nodded his head and sent him a small smile.

"Thank you."

After waiting a few moments, during which Alfred had also entered the waiting room and sat with Bruce, Evangeline was wheeled out in a wheelchair, a slightly starry, dazed look on her features.

"Mr. Wayne?" the nurse pushing her pauses in surprise as the two men rise but quickly regains his poise.

Bruce extended his hand to the nurse, taking Evangeline's discharge papers in his.

"Everything is included in the paperwork," she smiled beautifully to him.

"Thank you. And be sure to send all of her medical bills to me, okay?" he slipped her a business card with his contact information on it.

She accepted it and nodded. "You're very gracious, Mr. Wayne."

Alfred stepped behind the wheelchair and pushed Evangeline while Bruce walked beside her.

"What happened?" Bruce asked, genuinely curious since he found her unconscious.

"Got hit in the head," she mumbled. "Baseball bat."

"A baseball bat?"

The three passed through the hospital's sliding doors.

"Yeah. Joker and some girl," she quietly slurred her words.

Bruce cast a look to Alfred.

Joker and Harley Quinn. They had attacked her.

Alfred set the brakes on the wheelchair and set off to bring the car around; Bruce leaned against the pillar next to Evangeline.

"I'm sorry."

"What for? Joker's just… unpredictable. Life's unpredictable."

Bruce grimaced; he had to definitely agree with that. He stooped next to her and took her hand in his, he gently massaged the spaces between her knuckles.

"It's not how you let it bring you down, it's how you rise from it."

She brought her full face to Bruce's, and he peered into those beautiful dark chocolate eyes. He watched as a bitter smile graced her lips and her eyes saddened.

"I don't think I did too well."

He cocked his head, confused, but before he could ask her what she had meant, Alfred pulled around with the Bentley.

"Your chariot awaits you, Miss Price," the elder man smiled while he walked around to the rear passenger door and opened it for her.

He offered light assistance to Evangeline since she wasn't entirely steady on her feet.

* * *

I'm sitting in a Bentley with Bruce Wayne and Alfred Pennyworth driving me home from Mercy Hospital – how much my life has changed in the past couple of days…!

I stammered out my address, 316 Murphy Avenue apartment 9, to Alfred and he dutifully drove us toward my home. Since Mercy was in the Burnley District and I live in the Upper East Side, we only have to hop on the expressway for a few moments and cross the Sprang River and then drive down a few city blocks.

The drive doesn't take long, and I'm very thankful since the drive made me slightly nauseous with the passing lights of the Gotham City blaring by. I close my eyes on the drive home, but I must have dozed off, because I awaken with a jolt as the car stops and parks and my head is laying on Bruce's shoulder.

I half-leap away from him, blushing madly and even more so as he sends me the small, trademark smirk that I see from his photos of him in the papers with gorgeous women on his arm. But I swear I see a flash of color on his face.

Bruce and Alfred help me up the steps to my apartment, and after I unlock my door and step into my apartment and turn on the lights, I ensure the two men that I'll be okay. I wave my discharge papers at them and remind them that I am a paramedic and I laugh.

"I need to sleep. It's good for concussions, since there's not so much activity for the brain," I gently tap my cranium, earning a small smile from the men.

"Okay. If you need anything, anything at all, don't hesitate to contact me, Evangeline."

I nod, humbled by Bruce's generosity.

As the two move to leave, I call out to Bruce.

"Bruce?"

He turned around to face me. "Hm?"

 _Oh, sod it._ My heart leapt in my chest as I made a bold decision.

I get up on my tiptoes and plant a kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you."

"Y-you're welcome," he stammered slightly, the lighting in my apartment catching the slight rise in color on his cheeks.

* * *

Meanwhile, just outside of Evangeline's apartment, Harley Quinn was waiting, poised with a camera and a huge grin on her face. She had just gotten a candid of Gotham's most eligible bachelor, Bruce Wayne, being kissed by the girl that she had bashed over the head earlier in the day. She nearly squealed with delight, but bit her tongue so as not to betray the fact that she was there. She was still in the pair of jeans and the t-shirt that she worn earlier when the Joker and she began their rampage through Gotham's Upper West Side; she longed to be back with her love and be back in her normal clothes: a red and black jumpsuit. Her normal.

She leapt down from her perch, and she pushed past a couple of people walking down the sidewalk. She made her path down the road and stepped into a deserted alleyway where the Joker's stolen car awaited her. The man himself was leaned casually against the hood of the car, staring up at the building next to him.

"You're nevah gon' believe this, puddin'!" Harley spoke, shattering Joker's pensive moment by shoving the picture in his face.

"So she's involved with Brucie himself," he began to chuckle. "Oh, this is getting better and better!"

Harley joined his laughing fit.

"First Batsy saves her after taday, now I catch her kissin' Mistah Wayne. She jus' can' make up her mind, the little slut."

"Well, Harley, I think a royal assassination is brewing – and she'll be the key to it all!" Joker threw back his head, cackling madly. "We'll be the King and Queen of Gotham!"

Harley clapped her hands and screeched in delight.

The sounds of delightful terror echoed throughout the alleyway, and no one but Joker and Harley Quinn knew just what was in store for Bruce Wayne and Evangeline Price.


	7. Chapter 7

A week later, and after a follow-up appointment with Doctor Holly's office, I've been deemed as having made enough progress to begin going back to my daily activities, but I still can't go back to work for another few days just to be safe.

I'm going stir-crazy.

And I'm still thinking about how I kissed Bruce Wayne.

I am officially crazy.

But every time I think about Bruce, my stomach flips and my heart flutters. I called Devyn over to come and hang out with me, and she should be here any moment now; I told her how I had kissed him on the cheek – emphasis on the cheek! – but even though it was over the phone, I knew that she was sending me a look.

"You like him!" she had half-screamed. "I knew you did, and he saved you in Coventry, it's meant to be!"

I tried to deny it, but I blushed thinking about Bruce, making me finally realize just how my feelings had developed for him. That realization hit me hard.

A knock on my door snapped me to attention. I looked through the peephole, and saw Devyn. I smiled as I opened my door.

"Hey!" I greeted my best friend with a hug.

"Hey yourself," she hugged me back tightly.

"So how are you?" I shut the door behind her and approach her as she marched over to my couch and flopped down, kicking her feet up.

"Work is boring without you… I can't wait for you to be back," she groaned.

I laughed in sympathy.

"Trust me, I can't wait to go back."

We delved into a conversation about how the Joker and Harley Quinn, definitely the woman who had bashed me over the head, had seemingly disappeared after the incident in the Upper West Side.

"Something's just not right," Devyn lowered her head, staring at my carpet.

I nodded in agreement. "I'm with you. Last time Joker was free, he insisted on killing people relentlessly."

"Did Batman get him and we just don't know it?"

I shrugged. "Who knows? I don't think he can exactly come forward with that kind of information. You know, since half the city is still after him."

 _"…today Mercy Hospital here in Gotham received a generous donation from our city's own Bruce Wayne…"_

"Ooh, look, Eve, it's your crush!" Dev teased, sending a wink toward me as she turned up the volume on the television set.

I smiled, trying to cover up the blush on my cheeks. Bruce looked incredibly handsome in a perfectly-tailored Armani suit, a generous smile on his features as he handed a check for $50,000 to one of the higher-ups in the hospital.

 _"…It's important to fund our hospitals. Gotham City has numerous amounts of medical facilities, but it's vital to remember that they cannot serve our community without proper funding."_ Bruce's voice from a brief interview filled my ears.

I can't help but smile at his generosity. He's a good man deep down, I don't think he's really the playboy that the media makes him out to be – not all the time at least.

"Stop swooning, woman," Devyn clucked, laughing.

"I am not swooning."

Devyn's phone rings, and she moves to pull her phone out of her pocket and answers it.

"Hello?" … "Oh, yes, do you have anything?" …

I watch as her face falls and she stands up to pace the room.

"Right. Well, please keep me updated." … "Uh-huh, yeah." … "Thank you anyway."

She sighed and ended the call, turning back toward me.

"They don't have it either, Eve. I'm so sorry."

My face falls, and tears brim in my eyes. We had been fervently searching for my mother's pendant, but it seems that no one turned it in or sold it to any pawn shops in the city.

"I'm sorry," she apologized again.

"It's not your fault."

"I just don't know where it could be. GCPD didn't pull it off of him, none of the shops have it, and it wasn't back in that alley…"

"Maybe I should just accept that it's gone. Just like her. Maybe I'll never get it back," I hang my head, doing my best not to cry.

"Don't talk like that. We'll find it."

She rubbed my back lightly and momentarily paused.

"Do you think Batman maybe grabbed it?"

I raise my head and shrug in response.

"Who knows? It could literally be anywhere, Devyn."

* * *

Bruce sat in the Bat Cave, examining the pendant in his hands. It was a beautiful sapphire with tiny diamonds all around it on a platinum chain; the lighting in the Cave made it shimmer a deep blue. The piece of Evangeline in his hand, he treasured it. He didn't know about her past, but he was curious – what she had said at the hospital was something he just couldn't get out of his head. And then when she kissed his cheek… Bruce felt himself smile.

He heard Alfred's quiet footsteps approach from the side.

"I haven't felt this way before, Alfred. This is different than Rachel."

"Then perhaps, Master Wayne, you should allow yourself to love."

Bruce furrowed his brow slightly.

"She could get hurt, though. She'll eventually find out who I am – she would have every right to know."

"Indeed, sir, but if the pair of you are meant to be, you'll outlast it all. Maybe just starting it off with a simple date will announce to her your intentions. And if I may say so, sir, I believe she fancies you."

Bruce knew that he was talking about the kiss. He remembered the feeling of her lips on his cheek, the way she had to stretch onto her tiptoes to reach him.

"And you fancy her," Alfred half-smiled to his master.

Bruce nodded, knowing that deep down it was most assuredly true. He pulled out his cell phone, swiping through his contacts until he found her name. He slightly hovered over her contact, hesitating a little.

"You're afraid," the loyal butler said, more of a statement than a question. "You're the one man in Gotham who can confront the Joker and the other criminals without hesitation, but when it comes to a woman now you're afraid?" He smiled gently at his master.

He sighed a little in defeat before typing up a text message to Evangeline.

* * *

My text-tone rings, and I pick up my phone, unlocking the screen with my fingerprint. I pull up my text messages, and my heart leaps in my chest.

'Evangeline, are you doing anything tomorrow night?'

"OH MY GOD!" I scream and white-knuckle grip my phone in shock.

"What is it? What is it?" Devyn leans over my shoulder and I show my phone to her. She squeals in delight. "I KNEW IT! He likes you, too, Eve!"

I fumble over the digital, on-screen keyboard typing my response to Bruce.

'No, I'm not'

'How about I pick you up at seven tomorrow evening? Dinner okay?'

'That sounds wonderful (:'

'Great – I'll see you then, Evangeline.'

'See you then'

I screamed in pure happiness jumping up and down slightly, feeling like an excited school girl.

"I have a date with Bruce Wayne!"

Realization hits me.

"Oh my God, Dev! What am I gonna wear?!"

So about an hour later, Devyn and I are traversing through the mall in Downtown Gotham looking for something appropriate for me to wear on my date without breaking the bank too much.

I bought a beautiful burgundy dress for a reasonable $80. It had a small amount of sparkle on the bodice, enough to catch the light and reflect it but not so much where you look like a disco ball, with the hem of the skirt grazing the knees and sheer, fluttering sleeves that sit on the edge of my shoulders.

The next day, I'm getting ready for our date, just stepping out of the shower. I wrap myself in my bathrobe and brush my teeth and meticulously primp myself. I turn on my curling iron to get it warming up before I use it. I let my hair down out of the towel and blow dry it and brush it. Before doing my hair, I do my makeup, a light layer of foundation, blush, a neutral eyeshadow, reserved eyeliner, and mascara. I walk into my bedroom, gently pulling the dress that I bought out of my closet and a simple pair of black kitten heel pumps. I slip perfectly into the dress, it fitting me in all the right ways and places.

I check the time quickly – it's 6:15, so I only have 45 minutes to curl this mane. I immediately set to work parting my hair into layers to curl it all. The process takes about 40 minutes, since I take a meticulously long time perfecting all of the curls so that they land gracefully on my back or over my shoulders. I admire my reflection, praising the good Lord above that everything cooperated today.

The knock on my door came as I was finishing putting a pair of CZ studs in my ears.

"Coming!" I announced.

I looked through the peephole and saw Bruce standing there. I smiled, unlocking the door.

The look on his face made me smile. He quickly eyed me up and down, as if in a little bit of shock.

"You look beautiful," he half-whispered, smiling at me.

I blushed in response.

"Thank you… You look quite handsome."

Oh, and he did in the suit that he wore. A subtle pinstripe suit with a pure white undershirt, a vest to match the rest of the suit, and a tie.

He sent me his trademark half-smile, his eyes lighting up ever so slightly for a split second. I couldn't help but blush again.

"Shall we?" he offered his arm.

"We shall," I smiled at him graciously, grabbing my key and shoving it in my purse before slinging it onto my shoulder before lacing my arm in between his. It felt so natural.

We descended the stairs outside of my apartment, where I saw an exquisite, sleek Lamborghini parked at the curb.

"Wow," I couldn't help but breathe out.

I heard Bruce chuckle as he opened the door for me. I seated myself, remembering to sit down completely and then rotate my body into the vehicle like a lady would. As soon as he made sure I was situated and comfortable, he closed the door and crossed in front of the car to step into the driver's seat.

"So, I'm guessing by what you're wearing I'm not overdressed?"

"No, not at all. You look perfect."

"Thank you… If you don't mind me asking, where are we going?"

"One of my hotels."

I nod slowly as we zoom through the streets of Gotham. I glance over to the speedometer and see that Bruce is doing 55 in a 30.

We reach Bruce's hotel, the Gotham Millennium, and pull up toward the valet parking. Photographers suddenly congregate in front of the doors, cameras ready.

"God…" I heard Bruce murmur.

"Uh, Bruce?"

He looks toward me. "You don't have to say anything to them. They'll try to get a reaction out of you, but don't let them, okay?"

I nod my head.

"Ready?" Bruce placed his hand on the door handle for his door.

I take a deep breath and let it out.

"Yep."

"Okay."

He opens his door, and the paparazzi immediately clambers to talk to him while he walks to my door and opens it. He extends his hand, and I take it, expertly sliding out of the car without flashing anyone accidentally. He snakes his hand to the small of my back, and we press forward to walk into the hotel. Flashbulbs went off all around us.

"Bruce! Bruce! Who is this lovely woman you brought tonight?"

"How did she get so lucky to be with you?"

"Hey, lady, you just looking to get a free meal?"

That last comment smacks me in the chest. I do my best to maintain a neutral expression and look straight ahead.

Bruce opens the door to the hotel for me and we step in.

"Great job – you can breathe now."

I didn't realize that I was holding my breath for the whole walk, and I slowly exhaled.

"A free meal, really? He practically called me a gold digger," I shook my head.

"Some of them are really awful. But you handled it really well," he smiled to me as we walked toward the restaurant.

"Thanks."

"Mr. Wayne, welcome," the maître d' greeted us and grabbed two menus. "Your table has already been prepared, please follow me."

The maître d' pulled out my chair and then pushed me in after I sat down. As soon as I sat and saw the people around us, I immediately felt overwhelmed. Many were drinking wine or champagne with plates of exquisite looking food in front of them.

I opened the menu, immediately noticing that prices were not mentioned anywhere. If they don't list the price, I don't want to know how much it costs.

"Please order anything you like," I look up from the menu and see Bruce peering at me.

"But… I don't know how much anything costs – I don't want to cost you too much, Bruce."

"That's kind of you, but it's alright. Promise."

"…Okay."

I wound up ordering prosciutto-stuffed chicken with a mushroom sauce, and enjoyed a couple of glasses of the wine that Bruce had ordered for us at the sommelier's recommendation. We spent a good portion of the evening drink and chatting, telling stories and jokes. It felt so easy to talk to him for so long, and the pauses that we had never felt awkward. It truly felt as though we had known each other for years instead of it being one of those awkward first dates that normally happen.

We finally stepped out of the hotel and walked back toward the valet service which promptly got the Lamborghini and handed off the keys. I saw Bruce hand the valet driver a $100 bill and I smile, once again taken aback at his generous nature.

On the drive back to my apartment, it's a quiet, amiable silence, only the noise of the engine in the cabin. Bruce drove a little bit slower on the way back to my home than when we went to dinner, and I smiled. We turned onto Murphy Avenue and drove down the avenue until we pulled up in front of my unit. Bruce parked the car and once again helped me out of the car.

We walked up the steps to my door, but something jammed in my door catches my eye.

"What's this?" I grab onto the small thing in the door jamb, the feeling of a cheap plastic coating on my fingers. I pull it out and examine it, the sight shocking me.

A playing card. The joker.

* * *

I watched as Evangeline grasped the thing in her doorjamb, and I did my best to keep a neutral face as I immediately and unfortunately recognized what it was. Joker had been there.

Her eyes met mine, and I saw a slight amount of fear in them; and rightfully so. He knew where she lived. She's not safe anymore.

"What does he want?" I heard her ask quietly.

"I don't know, but you're not safe, Evangeline."

"I don't know if anyone is."

* * *

Alrighty, everyone I figured I'd post a longer chapter for you all since I've gotten quite a few more reviews and follows/favorites. You guys really don't know how much I appreciate them and how much it motivates me to write more!

I do want to let you all know though, updates may become less and less frequent - I'm a full-time college student juggling a professional internship and a part-time job. I will most certainly work on this when I can, but I wanted to let you all know ahead of time. As of right now, I have no intention of leaving this story where it is now, so please be patient with me.

~MaeBae18


	8. Chapter 8

Hey, guys! I am SO sorry for the lack of an update! It's been really crazy here recently - some of you may have heard about the tornadoes that went through Northeast Indiana on August 24 - well, I was actually in part of that outbreak. Two of my friends lost everything and I have been trying to do what I can to support them and give them what they need... It's been rough in our community, but thankfully no one was even seriously injured or died - we're incredibly lucky!

Now that I'm back, I'm planning on posting a couple of chapters quickly for you all - thank you so much for you patience and once again thank you to all who have favorited/followed and/or reviewed!

 _Her eyes met mine, and I saw a slight amount of fear in them; and rightfully so. He knew where she lived. She's not safe anymore._

 _"_ _What does he want?" I heard her ask quietly._

 _"_ _I don't know, but you're not safe, Evangeline."_

 _"_ _I don't know if anyone is."_

No sooner had I uttered those words, a maniacal laugh echoed by an ear-piercing, shrill shriek of a laugh rings out throughout the quiet avenue.

"Well, well, it's, uh, about time you got home," the voice sounded from above us. Instinctively I wanted to grab Bruce and hide, but I stay put, frozen to the spot in fear as the Joker and Harley Quinn step onto the eaves of the roof of my apartment.

My eyes widen as suddenly the Joker and Quinn are on our level, landing carefully on their feet from the drop.

"Now, you're just heavenly tonight… How about you go meet those angels?" I watched as he suddenly pulled out a pistol and leveled it at my forehead. My heart rate immediately sky-rocketed, and I felt my knees begin to tremble.

"Let her go," I hear Bruce growl.

"And why would I do that?" he replied in a sing-song voice.

Joker suddenly turns his attention back to me.

"And you are beautiful. Just like my wife…" he begins to close the distance between the two of us, and I hear Bruce take a step forward before Harley steps between us. "You wanna know how I got these scars?" he asks me.

I had had enough. I made eye contact with Bruce, and he nodded to me, his hand slightly extended toward me. I took the chance to run toward my opening, toward Bruce where he had managed to sneak around Harley, who was too busy paying attention to her reflection in a compact mirror.

I sprinted with all of my might, the sound of a gunshot nipping my heels. I race to Bruce, who clasps my hand and we sprint together down the avenue and into an alleyway. We stop momentarily.

"We have to keep going, he'll spot us here," I hissed at him, quickly sliding the heels off of my feet.

Bruce's eyes widened slightly. "You can't go barefoot – who knows what's down here."

"I'll be fine," is all I can manage to speak before Joker's footfalls approach us.

We take off again, this time a shot hitting the wall beside my head. The brick chipped slightly, the bit grazing my arm. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Bruce take out his cell phone and send a message to someone. He doesn't let go of my hand for a second as we continue running away from the apartment.

A little while later, about six blocks over and after twists and turns, the sound of Joker's pursuit faded, but the sight of smoke a few blocks down makes my pounding heart nearly stop.

"No… No!" I whisper then shout, immediately heading toward my apartment.

"Evangeline, wait!" I feel Bruce reach out for me, but I'm too quick for him and sprint back with my remaining energy.

The sight before me crushes me. My apartment and my car are up in flames, with Joker cards littered all over the pavement.

"It's all about sending a message…" the voice sneaks up behind me and places a cloth over my mouth as they twist my arm behind my back, making me gasp in pain.

The world suddenly begins to spin, black spots covering my eyes. The Joker's face appears in front of me just as I see Bruce arrive back at the apartment.

"Evangeline! No!"

* * *

Bruce watched as Joker stepped in front of Evangeline and picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.

"Evangeline! No!" was all he could shout before the Joker took out his pistol and fired at toward Bruce, grazing his right shoulder. He groaned from the pain, but was more concerned with Price that he didn't notice Harley approaching with a bat. The bat swung into his gut, knocking the wind out of him and making him fall to his knees, gasping for air.

"Bye-bye, Brucie."

"Master Wayne, are you alright? I heard the report of a fire, and…" Alfred cut off his sentence, seeing his master look defeated.

"He took her. I couldn't defend her, and he took her," was all he said, his eyes staring straight to the ground.

"Who?"

"Joker," Bruce raised his head, making eye contact with the elder butler.

Alfred hadn't seen a fire like that in Bruce's eyes in a long time – the last time being probably before Rachel had been murdered.

"Come. Let's go home," Alfred suggested to him, his eyes silently reminding him that he has a job to do now.

Bruce nodded firmly and stood, wiping the dirt off of his pants.

"I'll find her."

* * *

I awoke in a darkened room, only illuminated by a dim light bulb hanging above me. The room swirled around me as a headache suddenly grips me. The memories of before I had been kidnapped flooded my brain – the apartment, the car, everything was on fire. I had run back like an idiot, ignoring Bruce. Well, look what I got myself into now.

A knock makes my head snap to one side, light entering the room as a door opens. I see for the first time that I am handcuffed with my arms around my back to a large metal pole.

"You're, uh, awake, huh?"

I just glare at him in response.

"Yeah, yeah, stupid question."

I do my best from showing my thoughts of 'hell yeah, that was' from him.

"He will come for me – you won't get away with this," I snarl, much harsher than I believed I could.

"Who? Bruce, or the Bat?" Joker gets in my face, and I smell his greasy hair.

I open my mouth to respond to the question, but snap it shut quickly.

"I – I don't know," I truthfully respond.

"Well either way, let's make this fun, huh?" a smile plasters itself onto his face as he takes out a switchblade. "I've always preferred a knife you know – guns are just too…" he pierces the skin of my shoulder, making my blood appear. "Quick."

To my absolute horror, he extends the blade into my shoulder a little further at an agonizingly slow pace, making me whimper, before he drags it along in a relatively straight line parallel to my collar bone. The incision winds up being about an inch long before he takes the blade out of the wound before plunging it back in at a different angle and makes a harsh curve. The sudden realization of his efforts grips me: he just carved a 'J' into my shoulder.

Halfway through the curve, I let out a scream of agony and pain, willing, no begging for him to stop. But he didn't listen, just slowed the blade's movements through my flesh.

As soon as the blade leaves my shoulder, my legs give out on me and I slump to the floor, hot tears welling in my eyes as I shook violently from the shock. The Joker's hand latches onto my chin and wrenches my face upward to face him.

"I'm sure one of them will come for you – just as soon as they find out just where you are," he laughs maniacally, slamming the door shut behind him in the process, leaving me in the darkness, the light bulb gently swaying overhead.

I sobbed hard, not caring who heard me. Not caring about how I looked so unfitting for the dress that I still wore from my date with Bruce.


	9. Chapter 9

You guys! I'm SO, SO, SO sorry that it's been so long that I've updated! College has been insanely busy, as I'm taking classes full-time, working part-time, and I have an internship. I'm going to do my best to post a couple more chapters while I'm on break, you guys deserve it!

* * *

My body quivered, an exorbitant amount of stress on my mind. Blood still seeped from the crude stab marks on my shoulder. My tears eventually dried, and I found my mind wandering back to Bruce. Was he okay? Did the Joker and Harley Quinn take him, too?

Bruce. The date that was cut off between us had been perfect up until then. Perfection in how he looked, how he had treated me like royalty. He not once treated me inferior. The way he ogled me when I opened my apartment door still made me smile. But my situation was precarious to say the least. I was in the hands of the Joker - Gotham's most heinous and most evil person. If you can even call him a person, that is.

I was rapidly losing blood, losing hope of rescue. Exhaustion claimed me, and I felt my body slump to the floor, darkness swallowing me whole as the door opened once again.

* * *

Bruce was feverishly searching for any clues as to Evangeline's location. So much so that he didn't realize that he had spent the previous four hours looking; it's now nearly two in the morning. As soon as he had gotten back to the Manor, he wordlessly disguised himself as the Dark Knight and tore out into the City that he had such a cruel love-hate relationship with.

"Master Wayne, I've pulled and analyzed the feed from the traffic cameras all over Gotham," Alfred's voice pipes in over Batman's in-suit communication technology.

"Find anything?" He gruffly asks.

"Yes, sir, it appears as though our friend was quite sloppy this time. I was able to track the vehicle used to kidnap Miss Price all the way to the abandoned theater just to the east of the old stadium near Newtown."

"Any way to pull feed from the buildings in there?"

"I'm attempting that now, sir."

There was a moment of silence between the two men.

"Master Wayne…" Alfred hesitantly began. "You cannot blame yourself."

Bruce clenched his jaw, momentarily stopping his stride, more of a pace along a rooftop.

"I was right there. I should have grabbed her and held her back."

"You cannot dwell on that, sir. You must save her; and she deserves to know the truth, as well, I might add."

Bruce unconsciously let out a sigh mixed with a pained groan.

"I know. I'm going to, but when the time is right."

It's no secret, Bruce didn't enjoy keeping his double life hidden from Evangeline, but it was necessary; she would be in even more danger if she knew.

"Sir, I've got something. Another vehicle pulled up to the location where Miss Price presumably is about twenty minutes ago."

"Why 'presumably'?"

"I believe that the feed has been corrupted, there was no footage of Miss Price entering the building. Wait…"

Bruce waited with bated breath.

"All of the footage has just been erased. It's all gone."

"I'm on my way there. If video feed comes back online, notify me straight away."

"I shall. Be safe, Master Wayne."

* * *

The light bulb above me was still, as though the room had been untouched, unintruded for a while. The thought gave me a small amount of comfort; no one had bothered me since Joker last time.

"Have a nice nap?"

I jump in surprise, leaping to my feet in response.

"Who's there?" I half-shout, trying to look around me, behind the pipe that I'm bound to.

"Relax. I'm a friend of a friend of yours."

"A friend of a friend? That's awful comforting," I quip.

I'm met with a chuckle, sounding much more sinister since I still cannot see who I'm talking to.

"Oh, yes, you see, we have a mutual friend in Batman."

"Batman? What makes you say that? You get caught up in some trouble and run into him or something?"

Suddenly a face appears from the darkness around me, making me jump in shock. I lose my footing and stumble back to the ground, landing hard on my bottom. A man's face glares at me - a slight mustache and goatee and five o'clock shadow evident on his face and piercing dark blue eyes staring at me, searching my features.

I have to break the eye contact, the glare is so furious. But a hand cups itself gently around my cheek, and I am forced to look at him. This time, his gaze is much gentler.

"I'm setting you free. This wasn't part of the plan."

"W-what?" Is all I'm able to stutter as I feel the handcuffs around my wrists shatter, my arms falling freely to my sides in response.

The man suddenly stoops and hoists me off of the ground, holding me close to his chest, and with one quick movement, he pins my arms so I couldn't fight back.

"Let me go!" I scream, more so out of pure adrenaline and fear as it coursed through my veins.

"If you promise not to fight, I'll let you walk freely," he cooly spoke.

I found my head bobbing in agreement and he immediately released his grip, red marks left in their wake. He picks up a slow but long stride, and we set off into a corridor.

"Who are you?"

The man doesn't respond, his stride not once faltering. I examine my options for escape, not trusting the man in front of me. I spot a small window, but it's high up on the wall and nothing is around for me to climb up to it. There's a light coming down from the corridor to my left, and I keep the location in mind. No way in hell am I following this stranger and not having an escape route in my head.

"I wouldn't suggest running," he half-whispers, as if he was reading my thoughts. He turned his head slightly toward me, and no doubt saw the dumbstruck look upon my face.

"Your stride slowed. Your footsteps betray you, Miss Price."

I feel my cheeks redden in embarrassment and my eyes widen.

"H-how… How do you know my name?"

"I know many things, those of which I am not at liberty nor have the desire to share with you," he quips, opening a door at the end of the hallway.

 _Wow. What a character this guy is. Who does he think he is?_ I unconsciously scoff aloud.

He grips my arm tightly and pulls me through the open door behind him, quickly pulling it shut again.

Inside, he releases me and lets me walk around the small room on my own; but he doesn't leave. No, he stands in front of the door, blocking my one and only exit.

"I thought you were setting me free?" I angrily ask.

The man chuckles.

"He didn't, uh, specify what 'free' means."

"I…" I feel myself back into a corner of the room as the Joker makes his presence known. He was hiding in the shadows caddy-corner to me.

The sinister grin that will surely haunt me for the rest of my days approaches, something in his hand.

"You see this? This," he tosses it gently in the air in front of me. "This, uh, will lead you to freedom."

He slaps it into my hand and forcefully makes my fingers curl around the device. I feel a button and quickly realize what it is.

"It's a detonator."

The Joker laughs. "Just, uh, take some time to… think about what freedom is for you."

I narrow my eyes. "My freedom is being away from you! What do you want with me anyway?"

"Gotham City has become a cesspit of greed, violence, and death - it cannot be allowed to fester," the blonde man by the door spoke up.

"Here we go…" I hear Joker mutter.

"What do you mean?" I ask, confused.

"How long have you been in Gotham, Miss Price?"

I have to think for a moment. "A few years…?"

"Then you know how the Narrows have fallen into chaos."

"Yes, and Batman stopped it before it could get worse."

"Pssh. Batman," blondie growls and steps away from the door and marches over to me. "I created Batman, taught him everything. He caused the Narrows to collapse, for everything to lie in ruin."

"That can't be true. Batman is -"

"He is not who you think he is, Evangeline."

I have nothing to say to that. Sure, he had saved me a couple of times, but I really didn't know him.

I turn to the Joker, an earlier thought bubbling to the surface.

"Where's Bruce?" I asked, but heard another scoff come from blondie.

"Brucie? Hmm… Harley, what *did* we do with him?"

"We, uh, let 'im go, Mistah J," she replied.

"Oh, yeah. So, don't worry about him, he's fine," he drew out the word 'fine' into a few syllables.

Doubt and concern entered my mind.

"You love him," blondie said more than asked me if I did.

My reply was silent, but it was enough. I felt my face go red, the fact hitting me very obviously and suddenly. I had fallen in love with Bruce Wayne.

I lower my head, trying to conceal my now-whirling mind.

"He's not what Gotham needs."

I snap my head back to attention, clenching my fists.

"Batman *is* what Gotham needs. We just don't deserve him."

Joker laughed in response.

"In case you, uh, haven't noticed," he strides across the room with deliberate footsteps toward me and forcefully grasps my chin. "He's made Gotham worse."

"Gotham is not worse," I growl. "It would still be targeted. Crime doesn't end with city borders."

I see Blondie dip his head in agreement in my peripheral vision.

"This may be true," he begins to cross the room, moving toward me and opening an escape route. "But we had to escalate because he did."

"Well, if it wasn't for him, I'd be dead – and many others, too," I sneer, glaring at the men before me.

"Don't get over excited, lovely," Joker snatches the detonator from my hand.

He holds it out in front of me, continuously licking his lips as his thumb grazes the button on the detonator. The world seems to slow to a crawl as my legs take over and I'm suddenly sprinting with all of my might toward the door. To my escape.

"Ra's!" I hear Joker shout as I leave the room.

I turn my head slightly as I run, seeing Blondie, Ra's I think I heard, running after me. He charges toward me, and I somehow barely dodge him, sprinting further down the corridor. But before I can get too far, an explosion rocks the building, startling me and making me tumble to the ground. As I scramble back to my feet, Ra's pins me flipping me onto my back in this process.

"I thought you were letting me go," I pant.

"Death is your escape, Miss Price."

My eyes widened as I watch Ra's pull out a knife and raises it high above his head.

 _Goodbye Bruce._ I thought, squeezing my eyes shut in fear.

The sudden sound of shattering glass makes me reopen my eyes.

We both look toward the broken window and see the figure at the end of the corridor.

Batman.

I feel Ra's wrench me to my feet, the knife now being pressed forcefully enough against my throat to draw blood.

"And here he is," Ra's purrs.

"Let her go, Ra's," Batman growls.

"Nice to know you remember me."

"Of course I do – you're a murderous bastard."

"Oh," Ra's clicked his tongue. "You don't mean that do you? You wouldn't say that about the man that taught you everything?" he challenged.

"I just did. Let her go."

"I don't think so. Not until you tell her."

 _Tell me? Tell me what?_ I feel myself frown slightly, thinking.

I see Batman clench his jaw in response. He's suddenly much closer to us than I remember.

The knife digs deeper into my throat, making me weak in the knees. I begin to tremble violently.

"Tell her! Tell her or she dies – just like Rachel!"

Suddenly, Batman is attacking Blondie, and I stumble away, quickly falling to my knees. I place a hand to my throat and pull it away, my crimson blood staining the skin on my palm. Adrenaline and self-preservation takes over and my body goes on auto-pilot as I get back on my feet and walk, really half-run toward the window that Batman had entered through.

"Go!" Batman commands me, and suddenly I'm encased in strong, Kevlar-wrapped arms securely as we dive out the window. We roll onto the roof of the building.

Flames begin to consume the building, the light casting our shadows on the roof.

Blinding pain sears my body and I groan, feeling blood run down from my still-injured shoulder now, too. I cry out in agony, rolling onto my back.

Dark spots begin to invade my vision, and I know I'm losing blood quickly and probably going into shock.

"Are you okay?" I hear Batman ask me. I turn my head toward him, seeing that he's getting to his feet about a yard away from me.

"Evangeline?"

I say nothing, do nothing in response. I only close my eyes for a moment, and when I reopen them, Batman is suddenly right above my head peering down at me.

 _Those eyes…_

I narrow my eyes slightly, trying to remember where I may have seen those eyes before.

I know those eyes.


	10. Chapter 10

_Those eyes…_

I narrow my eyes slightly, trying to remember where I may have seen those eyes before.

I know those eyes.

* * *

"What did he mean?" I ask through gritted teeth.

Batman only looks at me, a mix of emotions on his face for a brief second.

"Who was that?" I tried asking.

"Not here. Later. I promise," is Batman's response, causing my eyes to narrow in confusion. The sound of incoming sirens pierce my ears and the nighttime sky.

"Bruce," I suddenly pipe up, not able to keep my thoughts inside my head anymore.

I see Batman tense up and freeze.

"Is Bruce okay? Have you seen him?" I demand him, craze beginning to creep into my voice.

Batman resumes his motion, silently lacing one arm under my knees and another by my shoulder blades. We quickly rise, and he immediately begins to head to the roof.

"He's okay. He's not hurt, and much more concerned about his Evangeline."

I swear I see a half-smile grace Batman's lips, but my mind is much more pre-occupied with the realization that I just made: we're heading toward the edge of the roof.

"You're not-"

"Yep. Trust me."

I found myself nodding, and I lace my arms tightly around his muscular neck.

"Okay…"

"Hold on as tight as you can."

My shoulder was absolutely throbbing, but fear of falling to my death made me momentarily forget the pain. I clench my jaw, readjust my grip, and hope to God that I don't slip.

The trip across the roof is a quick one, and we land smoothly on the next building's roof.

An explosion startles me, and Batman and I both whip our heads around to see the building that I had been held captive in encased in an even larger inferno. In the foreground, Ra's and the Joker exit the burning building, and I gasp in surprise. Batman pulls me back from the ledge in response, hoping to hide us from their view. I instinctively raise my hand to my shoulder, now numb.

"I will never forgive that lunatic," I whisper.

"Let's get you back," he says, not hearing me.

He gently places a hand on my uninjured side, his fingers curling around my arm gently.

We climb down the roof of the building that we're on, and Batman carries me bridal style toward a giant what looks like tank. He opens the top, something I've never seen in a vehicle, and gently places me inside. He steps in behind me and straps himself in.

Exhaustion begins to take hold, and I'm barely able to keep my eyes open.

* * *

I noticed that Evangeline was absolutely exhausted. All of the color was gone from her face, only the red of her blood staining her skin. I gritted my teeth, anger coarsing through my veins at the Joker and Ra's.

Ra's. I was so sure that he was gone. So sure that there was no way that he could have survived that train crash. I broke my one rule, or at least I thought I did.

The cut on Evangeline's throat was still bleeding, and there's a wound on her shoulder that's bleeding pretty badly, too. I need to get her medical attention. But I can't take her to the hospital myself, and there's no way I can call on Gordon.

I make my decision. I silently send a message to Alfred, notifying him that I had found Evangeline and that she needs immediate medical attention when we reach the second Bat Cave in the shipping container.

I then speed off toward our destination, noting that I don't have to convince her to wear a blindfold, considering she's already unconscious. I check on her to make sure she's still alive, and to my relief, she seems to be stable.

The drive to the docks is fairly quick, especially since I drove 80mph on the empty streets of Gotham at 3 o'clock in the morning.

Alfred greets us immediately, and we take her over to the medical table to begin stitching her injuries.

"Master Wayne. How are you going to explain this to her? I cannot very well leave the poor woman alone while she recovers."

"I know, Alfred. I can't either. Maybe it would just be best for now if I told her that Batman brought her here."

Alfred sent me a disapproving look.

"Master Wayne, you wouldn't do that to a woman that you love."

Love. Did I love her? I fold my arms over my chest. It's true, she makes me feel incredible and different, more so than I ever did with Rachel.

"I don't want to lie to her. She deserves to know."

Alfred nods his head and give me a lop-sided grin.

"Agreed, sir. She may not have been around much, but I can tell," he gives me a knowing grin while he finishes the last stitch in her neck. "Now on to this shoulder of hers…"

Alfred stands and moves to Evangeline's shoulder wound, while I go to finish changing back into different clothes. I grab a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.

"Master Wayne," Alfred calls for me, a tone of urgency in his voice.

I turn around and half-run back out, pulling my shirt over my head.

"What is it?"

"You should see this, sir."

I step over, and see that the wound that is marring Evangeline's shoulder is a crude scar in the shape of a 'J'.

"He did this," I snarl.

Alfred has a look of sadness combined with anger and pity in his eyes.

"And he'll only do worse if he finds out she knows everything."

Alfred turns toward me, his eyes a touch wider.

"Sir, you don't mean to completely bar her from your life?"

"It's because I love her."

My back was already turned, I was walking away.

"And how, sir, do you suggest I take care of her?" Alfred's voice had more raw emotion to it. Anger, frustration.

And that's how I wound up at the apartment of Devyn Ambruster, Evangeline in my arms.

The face that she gave me was quickly replaced with shock when she saw her best friend.

"Eve! Oh my God, what happened to her?" she cried, begging me for answers.

"She was ambushed by the Joker and by Harley Quinn," I growled quietly.

"Oh my God… Eve…" Devyn allowed me quickly into her home, letting me gently place the still unconscious Evangeline on a large leather couch.

"This is hers, too. I found it in the alleyway the night she was assaulted," I gravelly tell Devyn as I hand her the sapphire and diamond pendant.

Devyn's eyes water as she accepts the necklace. "You don't know what this means to her, and even to me. This is her last reminder of her mom. She was absolutely devastated when she lost it. Thank you. I'll make sure she knows you returned it."

I nodded my head and quickly exited the apartment, sprinting out the door into the darkness and around the block to the Tumbler.

* * *

Through my groggy state, I begin to come to. I feel my body lying on something warm, with a blanket or something draped over me.

"Nngh…" I groan.

"Eve?"

 _Devyn? When did she get here?_

I crack my eyes open, and sure enough, my best friend is peering at me, concern etched into her every feature.

"Don't worry so much, you're gonna get wrinkles," I tease.

"Oh, you're totally fine," she smirks, leaning back some, with a small smile on her face.

"Yeah, thanks to Batman. Again."  
"He's certainly more like the knight that the media portrays him to be, isn't he?"

"You can say that," I clamp my eyes shut, the light just a little too bright for me.

"Sorry, I'll shut off the lamp. But before I do, you should open your eyes again. The Bat left a gift for you."

I only open one eye, but as soon as I spot what Dev is holding in her fingers, both eyes pop wide open.

"Oh my God! Where…? How…?" I'm practically speechless as I run my fingers over the pendant, my eyes brimming with tears of happiness.

Devyn smiles broadly at me. "I don't know, Eve."

I lace the platinum chain around my neck, clasping it securely against my skin. The familiar weight of the jewels presses against the space between my collarbones.

My fingers brush my neck, and I feel stitches on the wound that I had received on my throat. I narrow my eyes slightly, shivering at the memory of Joker and Ra's.

"Eve?" Devyn's voice brings me back to the present. "If you don't want to talk about it…"  
"No, it's okay. I… honestly, it's kind of a blur."

I subconsciously bring my hand to my shoulder, feeling stitches there, too.

"Joker did this, and another man this," I gesture to my shoulder and my neck respectively. "And…I'd be dead if the Bat didn't show up when he did. The blonde man was about to kill me."

Devyn's eyes widened and narrowed as I told her everything that I remembered, going back even to when the Joker initially showed up at my apartment.

"But your date went well?" she tried to lighten the mood, coming back with some painkillers for me and a glass of orange juice.

"Very well," I smiled, accepting the medicine and the juice.

"Think he's gonna call you for another?"

I shrug lop-sidedly. "I hope so, but… It's Bruce Wayne. And I'm not exactly a 'someone' here in Gotham."

Devyn scoffed. "Please. You saved his butler, and have saved so many people in our profession. You *are* someone, and if he's too dumb to see that then he's not worth it."

I smiled at my best friend. She's right. Totally right.

"You're right."

My hand rests on the returned pendant, my fingers gently running over the sapphire and the small diamonds surrounding it.

"I wonder what they would think…" I wonder aloud.

Devyn gives me a sad yet reassuring smile.

"They would be just as proud of you as I am, sis."

Happy tears fill both of our eyes as we hug.

"Come on, let's get you some different clothes."

I looked down, having completely forgotten that I was still wearing what I wore on my date with Bruce. Dried blood and cuts in the material had ruined the dress, and for that I was sad.

"Yeah… Damn shame, I loved this dress."

Devyn chuckled, helping me to my feet.

Away from us, we didn't know that Batman was watching us from the building over. Silently protecting us, and making sure that I was going to be okay.


	11. Chapter 11

Hey everyone! I'm _so so_ sorry that I haven't updated this in so long! Life kind of got away from me, and it's been a bit crazy. Thank you all so much for sticking with me and waiting so patiently for my updates, y'all are the best (:

* * *

I awaken the next day, my unfamiliar surroundings frightening me, memories and flashbacks of Joker and Ra's fast-forwarding through my mind.

I fall from the couch and onto the floor, my hand slapping the coffee table on the way down.

"Eve?"

I hear footfalls approach the room, and my best friend rounds the corner.

"Eve! You okay?" she screeches, rushing to me.

I hold up a hand to help her calm down.

"I'm fine, I just …" I trailed off as she reached me and bent over to my level.

Before I know it, tears blur my vision and trickle down my cheeks.

"Oh, Eve…" I hear Devyn coo, wiping away my tears. "You're okay. You're safe."

"I was so scared. I was going to die, Dev."

She placed a hand on my uninjured shoulder.

"But you didn't. You're alive, thanks to the Bat. Hell, he brought you directly to me last night."

I sat in silence. It's true, I am alive, but my scars were going to run deeper and meld with my buried hurts.

"I need to know if Bruce is okay," I hear myself murmur aloud.

"What?"

"Bruce," I said a bit louder. "I need to know if he's okay."

"I'll drive you," she offered.

"Thanks, but…"

"No 'but's, missy," she counters immediately. "Though, we may want to shower first if we're going to see your crush."

"Dev…" I smiled a bit for the first time that day, lightly pushing my best friend from me with the palm of my hand.

"Hey!" she laughed and smiled. "Come on, guests first."

She helped me to my feet and I walked to her bathroom, looking at my reflection as I did so. What was left of my mascara and eyeliner was smeared across and under my eyes, reminding me a bit of raccoons. My eyes drifted to my throat, where a gauze pad covered a small section; I peered at my shoulder next. My hand unconsciously traveled to the site of where the Joker carved his insignia into my flesh. I grimaced at the still-vivid memory, and took a deep breath and let it out before I removed the gauze. I wouldn't've guessed that a lunatic could have left such a jagged 'J', but he managed to do it, if you looked at it for long enough, that is. I swallowed hard. I took another deep breath and braced myself for the knife blade wound on my throat from when the blonde man held me hostage after Batman showed up.

I turned away from my reflection, starting the shower's deluge of hot water. I stripped down from the borrowed pair of shorts and GCFD t-shirt. I gently stepped into the shower. I stood, palms pressed against the still-cool tiles of the shower, leaning over slightly allowing the hot water to run down my sore, aching body. More and more memories of the night invaded, and where the shower water and my tears met, I didn't know.

My mind took me back to July 18. The day that I lost my mother. My vivid memory placed my 15-year-old self once again in the passenger seat before the fatal car accident. My body physically shook as I recalled the impact, and Mom's body jolted quickly to the side, toward me. I heard our screams, smelled my mom's blood. I watched in horror as my mom's head lulled to the side, blood covering her face and coming out of her ears, nose, and mouth. I remember the last thing that Mom ever told me: "I love you, 'line."

Reality hit me, and I gasped, letting out a strangled sob. I felt my legs begin to tremble, and slowly sat myself down on the floor of the shower, placing my head on my knees and lacing my arms around my legs.

I let myself stay like that for a few minutes, trying to get the world, my memories to slow down around me. My sobs must have been louder than I had thought, because there was knocking on the bathroom door.

"Sweetie, are you okay?"

I couldn't find my voice to answer, silently shaking my head no as I continued to cry.

* * *

Bruce tossed and turned, getting an even less amount of sleep than usual. He just couldn't get Evangeline off of his mind. He knew that she was safe at her friend's house, but he just still couldn't help but worry about her. He had to tear himself away from his watch just to go home in a dire attempt at some rest.

"Master Wayne?" Alfred's voice broke the silence.

Bruce turned over, toward the source of his butler's voice.

"You're worried," he simply states, placing a tray with a glass of water and some Tylenol on the bedside table.

Bruce's eyes only wandered to Alfred and he nodded.

"She's …" he began, pausing.

"She's …?" Alfred pressed.

"I'm torn, Alfred," he admitted.

"Torn over what, sir?"

"Do I let her in, tell her everything. Or do I shut her out…?"

"If I may, sir, the fact that you have to ask yourself this question means that in your heart you know the answer."

Before Bruce could ask him what he meant, Alfred did an about face and walked out of the room.

Did he know? What he had said to Alfred was true – that she was different than Rachel. Bruce thought about the date that they had, an uncharacteristic smile gracing his features as he recalled how positively beautiful Evangeline had looked and how she naturally glided in her heels. How she had kissed his cheek the day that he brought her home from the hospital.

He knew what his heart wanted. What he truly wanted, and that was her in his life.

His mind made up, Bruce downed the Tylenol and the water and threw the covers off of him. He padded across the room to the massive en suite bathroom and got ready for the day. He dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a plain, black, short-sleeve t-shirt. Once he deemed himself presentable and ready for a day at home, he exited the room and made his way downstairs to the kitchen, no doubt where Alfred was.

Sure enough, his keen senses told him that Alfred was indeed preparing lunch.

"Have you made a choice, Master Wayne?" Alfred asks, not even turning around to see Bruce.

He smirked a bit, knowing that the old man is still so spry.

"I have."

Alfred turned around now.

"And?" he inquired.

Bruce nodded his head, a silent confirmation to Alfred that he was letting her in, was going to tell her everything instead of shutting her out.

"I'm quite happy to hear that, sir. You need to allow yourself to be happy."

Bruce had to agree, what with being Batman and being the CEO of Wayne Enterprises, he didn't exactly have much opportunity to be truly happy.

The sound of the buzz from the front gate at the entrance to the manor rang in the front room.

Bruce and Alfred shared a look of slight confusion, before Alfred left the room.

"Wayne residence, may I help you?"

Bruce left the room quietly to follow Alfred.

"Hi, my name is Devyn Ambruster, I have my friend with me."

Devyn – Bruce's brain quickly remembered who she was. The friend of Evangeline that he left her with last night after he had saved Evangeline.

Bruce shortly nodded to Alfred, signaling that he knew the name.

"Evangeline is most likely with her. She wouldn't have a reason to come here if she wasn't."

Alfred nodded his head.

"Shall I prepare some coffee?"

"Please. If anything I'll have some," Bruce said, opening the front door.

* * *

I sat in the passenger seat of Devyn's Tahoe, fidgeting as she parked. My eyes caught movement and I soon saw the front door open and Bruce subsequently appear.

I swear my heart skipped a beat. I saw Bruce, and without thinking, threw off my seatbelt and threw open the door. I quickly stepped out, wearing Devyn's borrowed sandals, jean shorts, and v-neck shirt. Bruce and I made eye contact and my feet carried me to him, like I was on auto-pilot. Bruce's small smile urged my feet toward him faster, and soon I gently collided with him in a gentle hug, which he returned.

"I'm so glad you're okay," was the first thing that I said to him.

I felt his arms tighten for a brief moment around me, and a hand laces itself around the back of my head, almost as if he's cradling me.

"And you… You're okay?"

I pulled away from him to face him completely.

"I had a lot of help, but I'm alive," I muster a forced smile.

"Batman?" he asks, his eyes flitting to my stitched up throat.

"Yeah," I nod. "Guy nearly killed me," I tell him, gesturing to my throat. "…until Batman showed up and saved me."

"I owe him, then," he quietly says, as his hand delicately caresses my cheek.

I give him a lop-sided grin.

Just then, Devyn cleared her throat.

"I'm, uhm, still here," she said, looking down at her feet.

I grimace slightly.

"Sorry, Dev," I awkwardly laugh.

"Master Wayne, there is coffee in the living room. Good afternoon, Miss Price, Miss Ambruster," Alfred greets us, inclining his head to each of us.

"Hi, Alfred," I greet him.

Devyn blushes and is obviously flustered at his formalities and I laugh lightly.

"Thank you, Alfred. Shall we?" Bruce gestures into the large estate.

We sat in the cozy living room for a while and chatted, mainly it was Devyn and I chatting about how we had met and had become friends and things that we had seen and experienced as paramedics.

"I remember the day we got assigned to the Narrows," Devyn reminisced.

"Oh, Christ, yeah, the day everything went to complete shit thanks to… what was his name? Scarecrow?" I leaned back into the cushions of the couch.

"You were there?" Bruce asked, his eyebrows practically flying off of his forehead.

I nodded. "It was horrible. Chaos in the streets."

"People running around, begging people for their lives…" Devyn remembered.

"You remember that fog that was around all night? I swear I had a headache for a week after that."

Devyn nodded. "I'll never get it out of my head, that whole night."

"And how they trapped us in the Narrows –"

"And how mad Flanch was," Devyn laughed.

"We got an immediate raise that night, all of the paramedics that were in the Narrows," I turned back to Bruce, who seemed to be studying me. "You okay?" I ask him.

I see his eyes refocus.

"Hm? Yeah, just remembering that night, too. I heard about it all on the news."

"You didn't want to be there," Devyn started. "I don't know how Batman did it."

"I don't either. Then again I don't understand how he does a lot of things."

"He's certainly a mystery, isn't he?" Bruce wonders.

I found myself nodding, looking back toward Bruce, more specifically his hazel eyes that I have found that I love.

A flicker of a memory of being close to Batman pops to the forefront of my mind. The chin, the eyes… _The eyes._

 _He couldn't be Batman._


	12. Chapter 12

Three weeks had passed, and things had changed. Joker and Harley Quinn laid low. Bruce and I laid low, keeping our bi-weekly dinner-dates on the down-low, and always at the manor. I had my own room set up in the manor, thanks to Alfred, and Bruce completely replaced my wardrobe with clothes that I had requested and with styles that he and Alfred thought that I would like. I lived with Devyn in her small home until I could find a new apartment. She graciously opened it up to me, and her parents lamented the fact that the Joker had destroyed everything that I owned.

In the meantime, I had finally returned to work, much to my own joy and my coworkers who welcomed me back.

"Welcome back, Price," our Fire Chief Arden Lowe greeted me.

"Thank you, sir. Good to be back," I smiled back to him.

"By the way," he stops me. "You've received this from the courts."

I accept the letter, noting the fact that it was indeed from the Gotham City Courthouse.

"Thank you."

I open the letter, a request for a testimony in the death of Roger Godell, the guard from Arkham Asylum that had been killed in the line of duty by the Joker or by Harley. I looked at the letter in confusion, wondering why on earth I was needed for a testimony. I sighed, and scanned the request for the hearing date: July 17. Great, I had four days to gather all of my documentation about Godell and memorize it all to testify. I rolled my eyes slightly, but knew that I had to go.

And five days until the worst anniversary of my life.

I sighed again, rubbing my eyes.

"Price!"

I whirled around, seeing our Battalion Chief, Reed Flanch, marching toward me.

"Sir?" I stood up a bit straighter.

I quickly and surreptitiously unfolded the small crease in my shirt near my shoulder.

"Good to have you back. Lowell is nearly done with his training, but I want him with you again. He said he learned quite a bit from you."

"Thank you, sir."

He curtly nodded to me before brushing past me, quite literally hitting me with his shoulder as he did so.

"And don't forget about that court date!" he shouted to me.

I squinted at him in slight confusion. How would he know that I had been summoned to testify?

I shrugged it off, immediately logging into the station's computer system with my credentials and set to work scanning my personal documentation records for one person in particular: Roger Godell.

After a few moments of searching and digging, I found all of the notes, a compilation from myself, Jon, and even Chris.

"Hey, V," Jon's voice greets me.

"Hey, yourself," I greet him, turning over my shoulder and smiling at my friend.

"What's that?" I see him looking toward my court summons.

"Courthouse wants me to come in and testify for Godell's death."

"Godell? The guy from Arkham?"

"Yeah. Don't know why, though."

Jon just shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe since he died because of the Joker?"

"Hm," I grunted thoughtfully. "That's about the only thing I can think of…"

I saw Jon fold his arms in front of his chest beside me and furrow his brow.

The sound of my personal cell phone going off distracted me from my notes.

"Bruce?" Jon asks me with a huge smirk on my face.

I check the phone quickly, seeing it was indeed a text message from Bruce: 'be safe at work tonight, let me know when you're on your way back to Devyns'

"Maybe…" I evasively answer, laughing a bit.

"Ugh, it's so gross," Devyn's teasing voice reached us.

"Ha, yeah, but you know what – for once things are going my way," I hit the print button on our notes and got up to go get them from the nearby printer.

"You shouldn't've said that," Jon shook his head, laughing.

"Yeah, they're still out there, you know," Chris joined us now.

I heard a quick slap.

"Yeah. I know," I quietly replied.

My cell phone went off again, indicating another text from Bruce: 'how's your shoulder?'

He had found out about my shoulder because he had walked in on me changing the gauze and making sure that it wasn't bleeding one day before dinner at his house. I remembered how he had been so livid, but seemed to calm himself down fairly quickly and volunteered to take care of it since it was at a bit of an awkward angle for me to do it myself.

I quickly sent him a response: 'I'll let you know when I get to dev's and it's fine for now'

A few seconds later Bruce's response came through: 'okay, don't push yourself too hard'

"Blech!" I heard Chris, Jon, and Devyn mock-vomiting, making my head snap back up and away from my phone.

"Wipe that smile off of your face, girl!" Devyn laughed.

"Shut up," I laughed.

But our happy atmosphere quickly disappeared when the station's emergency notification system went off, indicating that there was a three-car collision on Dillon Avenue in the Upper East Side.

"Station 17, code 901T."

The two loud beats sound before the ambulance is announced.

"A8."

"Be careful, guys," I shout to the already-running Devyn and Jon.

They acknowledge me by waving their hands back to me over their heads.

The alert goes off again, moments after my friends depart.

"Station 17, code 245 at 56476 Cameron Avenue. 17-21."

Assault with a deadly weapon. Faaaantastic.

"Alright, Lowell, let's go," I jog to our assigned ambulance for my very long 14-hour shift.

I jumped into the driver's seat, Chris in the passenger's seat.

"Radio ahead for me, will you?" I ask, flipping on our lights and siren as we exit the station.

"Station 17 this is 17-21, en route."

"17-21, 10-4."

I speed off in the direction of the Upper West Side and Chinatown, our destination being between the two. After a few minutes' drive, we crossed the Finger River and into the Diamond District, and soon onto Cameron.

Bruce, meanwhile, was busy in the Bat Bunker in the warehouse district, looking for anything that might portray to him the location of the Joker or Harley Quinn. He rubbed his eyes a bit, the bright light of the computers making them hurt after staring furtively at them for hours on end.

"Anything yet, Master Wayne?" Alfred asked him.

Bruce couldn't suppress his frustrated grumble. "No, nothing. I don't get it."

"In the meantime, sir," Alfred approached Bruce from behind. "You should eat a proper meal."

Alfred had presented Bruce with a simple yet filling dinner.

"Thanks, Al," Bruce greedily picked up the food, stuffing some of it in his mouth eagerly.

The sound of his personal phone ringing caught his attention.

Bruce unlocked the screen, pulling up the text message.

"Miss Price, I presume?" Alfred half-smiled at his master.

"Yeah. She's back on duty tonight," he half-grimaced, typing a quick response before sending it.

"She'll be alright. I have a feeling that Miss Price is full of more surprises than we know, sir," Alfred wisely said. "But, if I may ask."

Bruce turned his head toward his butler, relocking his phone and placing it on the desk in front of him.

"Have you thought about how to tell her?"

Bruce knew exactly what he meant.

"I… I don't know," he admitted.

"Just think it over, Master Wayne," Alfred said, turning on his heel and walking away.

Bruce turned his attention back to the monitors, surveying everything that he could get his hands on to try and find the homicidal madman.

Before he knew it, three more hours had passed while he perused traffic camera feeds from two days ago. He stood up, rubbing his eyes once again and stretched out his now stiff back. He then dropped to the floor, feeling the immediate need to work out a bit. He pumped his arms, doing push-ups on the cold, hard concrete floor of the bunker.

He had gotten to 24 when Alfred reentered the room.

"Master Wayne," Alfred's English accent riddled with concern.

Nothing else had to be said. Bruce immediately knew that he was needed. Well, not _him_ , but Batman.

Chris and I were on our way back to the station after our fourth call in five hours.

So far we had that assault with a deadly weapon, an unconscious drunk who had passed out in a street, a hit-and-run, and drug-induced overdose.

"They're really making us work for our pay tonight," Chris grumbled as he drove through the streets.

I resisted the urge to yawn, instead brushing off the gesture by stretching my arms in front of me. It was only 2am, but it felt like it was much later than that.

"Yeah. It's a full moon," I joked.

"17-21, this is Station 17, please respond."

I gave an exasperated sigh before picking up the receiver.

"17-21, proceed," I spoke into the radio.

"17-21, 17-8 needs emergency assistance at their location, please verify."

I briefly shot a glance toward Chris, who nodded his head.

"17-21 confirmed."

"Copy that, 17-21."

They briefly gave us their address and Chris had to turn the ambulance back around, turning our lights and sirens on in the process.

"17-8, this is 17-21, please respond," I once again pick up the radio, having switched to the ambulances-only frequency.

"17-21, go ahead," I heard Devyn's voice respond.

"17-8, we are en route ETA eight minutes, please acknowledge."

"17-21 10-4," I heard her respond hurriedly.

I sighed once again, sweeping my hand over my head before rubbing my temples.

As we pulled into the area, unmistakable since there were police cruisers and Devyn's and Jon's ambulance, we both glanced at each other.

"17-21, on the scene," I radioed dispatch, throwing off my seatbelt and exiting the ambulance as soon as it was placed in park.

"17-21, 10-4," the dispatcher responded, sounding just as tired as us.

Chris and I walked to the back, retrieving our medical bags that we had been forced to restock already. We slung them over our shoulders and set off toward our friends in a brisk walk.

"Jon, Dev," I called out to them as we ducked under the police tape around the area.

"Commissioner," I greeted Gordon, who looked as tired as ever. He nodded his head curtly in response to my greeting, but that was just him being business- and professional-like.

Chris and I walked to Devyn and Jonathon, the all-too-familiar smell of copper and iron in the air.

"Eve," Devyn called out to me. "Need your help."

I set my bag and myself across from her, examining our patient.

I pushed myself to see things other than the terribly obvious new scars on the victim's face. It only reminded me of the Joker, but maybe that was the intention.

"What have we got?"

"This is Bob. Lacerations to the arms, legs, and face. Gunshot wound to the abdomen. He got it only slightly better than his friend. We needed the assistance because the coroner's office is practically overflowing and couldn't out a time until later."

I steeled my eyes, practically feeling my determination radiating from me.

"Okay. Let's get to work."

Devyn and I immediately set to work, me handing her supplies from my bag as she needed them and I cleaned our patient's wounds.

"Appears to be a handgun wound," I note aloud. "But from the stippling of his skin and this residue on his abdomen I'd say it was close-range."

"Trace will tell us," Commissioner Gordon was suddenly behind me, and he must have heard my comment. "My guess would be that your gut is right."

I nodded my head tersely, setting back to work in cleaning one of the deep lacerations on Bob's right forearm to try and make it easier for the coroner.

But a sudden, quiet _whoosh_ -ing sound above me caught my attention, my head snapping upwards. Gordon must have heard it too, as we both looked at each other. I quirked a brow at him, and mouthed him one single thing: _Batman?_

He gave me a barely noticeable nod, and he began to walk toward the alleyway a few yards from us. My brain was telling me to stay with Dev, but my body decided that I was going to follow Gordon.

I tried to control and minimize the sounds of my footsteps as I traversed the alleyway, finding Gordon quickly at the other end.

"Commissioner," I started, but he quickly silenced me by holding up a hand.

I understood the gesture, and closed the distance between us and found Batman in the dark, near pitch black corner.

"Batman," I gaped.

"I should go," I heard him rasp in an unnaturally gruff voice.

"She's an admirer," Jim spoke up for me. "I trust her."

I felt the Bat's steely gaze look me over before he spoke again.

"Those two men. What happened?"

I looked at Gordon, chewing the inside of my cheek.

"Joker," he quietly responded.

"The victims had … facial scars," I added, hesitating slightly.

"Facial scars?"

"Just like the Joker's," I nodded slightly.

A sudden gunshot pierced the night air, and Batman was suddenly in front of me and I was pressed against the wall. Gordon launched himself toward the wall adjoining us.

"Uh," I stammered, Batman being so close. "Th-thanks."

He remained silent and stoic, looking at me in the eye.

 _Those eyes._ That familiar shade of hazel. That jaw and chin. _I know this man._

I felt my eyes widen, and then narrow, my mind going at a million miles an hour.

My mind raced as I began to connect the dots.

 _Bruce Wayne is Batman._

I began to open my mouth in shock, but he gently pressed a gloved finger over my lips and sent me a look that begged me not to say anything.

 _Bruce…_

If anyone had asked Bruce why he reacted the way he did when that gunshot rang out in the night, he would have just said that it was the right thing to do. But as soon as he realized that Evangeline was there, right in front of him, and he couldn't talk to her like he normally would, his mind told him to protect her. Protect her with his life, if he had to. His body naturally pulled her away from the mouth of the alley and into the wall, pressing himself slightly into the wall and into her.

His fatal mistake was making eye contact with her. He saw as she pieced the puzzle together, looking rapidly from his eyes to his jaw and mouth. He knew he had been found out.

Evangeline knew he was the Batman. He watched as she opened her mouth, no doubt to confirm his identity to her, but he quickly pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her and he mentally screamed, pleaded that she wouldn't say anything.


	13. Chapter 13

My mind was practically flying, and I couldn't concentrate on anything except for one thing that I knew almost positively: Bruce Wayne, the man that I'm falling for, is Batman.

I insisted on Chris driving for the rest of the night, and was only half aware of what I was doing for the rest of the night.

We arrived back at Station 17 around 3:30 in the morning, and my shift was due to end in about 30 minutes. But I knew those 30 minutes would be torture. Many times I held my phone in my hand, ready to send a text to Bruce, but never sent anything for fear that I was wrong. For fear that I would say something like that to Bruce and then have him accuse me of just being crazy.

"V?" Jon gently shook me, my attention snapping back like a rubber band.

"Hm? What?"

"I've been asking you if you were okay for the past two minutes," he breathed a slight sigh of relief.

"Sorry, just … Thinking," I fidgeted with my phone in my hands.

The sudden buzzing startled me, making me nearly drop my smartphone.

I examined the screen after calming my heart rate, seeing that it was a text from the man himself … Bruce.

'we need to talk'

 _No shit._ I thought, typing a reply.

'time and place'

Bruce's response came instantly.

'manor tomorrow at six?'

'fine'

"Is it Bruce?" Jon asked me.

I nodded, staying silent.

"What'd he do? Do I need to go kick his ass?"

I cracked a small lop-sided smile.

"No, I don't think so. Just… seeing those scars again didn't help either."

I changed the subject because I knew I couldn't afford to have Bruce's potential secret slip. Even if it's not true.

"Hey," Jon sat down next to me and placed a hand on my shoulder. "I won't let anything happen to you, and I don't believe that Bruce will either. You're like my little sister, V."

I gave a full smile to the man who was like my brother that I never had. "Thanks, Jon."

Bruce arrived back at Wayne Manor via the Bat Cave, where Alfred was waiting for him.

"Welcome back, Master Wayne."

Bruce stepped out of the Tumbler with mixed emotions.

Alfred immediately knew that something had happened, and he had a nagging feeling that it involved Miss Price.

"She knows," was all Bruce had murmured, pulling the cowl off. "She figured it out."

Truthfully, he couldn't help but be a little proud of her, but at the same time it was raising questions in his mind about the future.

He ran his still-gloved fingers through his hair, clenching his jaw and clutching his phone in his hand. It seemed to taunt him. Everytime he would type a message to Evangeline, he would erase it and type something new. Rinse and repeat. Before he finally decided on one message.

'we need to talk'

Bruce groaned in frustration. _Really? Send that kind of a message?_

I laid on the couch that night at Devyn's apartment, unable to sleep. Unable to think of anything but Bruce. Batman. The same man? I didn't know for sure, but my gut told me I was right. My mind whirled with the possibility. I sighed, tossing the blanket off of me and crossing the floor to the dining room where I began to pace. It was near dawn, and I stopped for a moment to see the sunrise paint Gotham in a scarlet red. _Red sky in the morning, sailor take warning._

I wanted nothing but to sleep, the 13-hour shift that I worked through yesterday and into this morning should have exhausted me, plain and simple. And yet here I was, leaving marks in Devyn's carpet.

 _I could just take a sleeping pill. Or a painkiller._ My mind told me. I accepted defeat and trudged to Devyn's bathroom, ignoring the pain pills. Instead grabbing some Tylenol PM and grabbing a pill, taking it instantly. No way was I going to get hooked on these again.

I awoke about seven hours later, right around two in the afternoon. I groggily opened my eyes, every limb of my body feeling like lead. I stretched my long limbs, curling my toes and lacing my fingers together to stretch my arms high above me.

"Well, it's about time someone got up," I hear Devyn's teasing voice prod.

I let out a sound that can only be said to be a mix of a groan and a chuckle in response, too groggy yet to throw a pillow.

"Couldn't sleep last night, huh?"

"Couldn't get my mind off of Bruce," I admit to my best friend.

"Bruce? I should've known," I can practically hear her head shaking and the smirk. "What'd he do?"

I finally force myself to sit up on the couch and I finally see what Devyn is up to. She's making food.

"Why do you and Jon think he did something?" I laugh a bit.

"Just lookin' out for you," Devyn smiled gently.

"To answer your question – I just can't wait to see him today."

Devyn points her spatula at me.

"Answer all the questions, missy."

I roll my eyes a bit, smirking.

"He didn't do anything, Dev."

 _Well, it's not technically a lie…_

I watched as Devyn nodded slightly, resuming making what I can now smell to be grilled cheese sandwiches.

"What time?"

"Hmm?"

"What time are you going to meet Bruce?"

"Oh. Six. He wants me to meet him at the manor."

Suddenly, both of our phones buzz with a text message.

I narrow my eyes, slightly weary of the fact that it could be Station 17 needing us to come in. Instead, it's a text message from Jon.

'you guys need to turn the tv on – now'

…

After a moment, Jon sent us another text.

'it's him'

I turn back to face Devyn, and we are wearing identical looks of concern. I swing my legs off of the couch and fly to the remote and turn on the TV, switching it to the news.

"If you're just joining us, this is the top story and our breaking headline. The Joker has struck again," the female news anchor says. "Please use your own judgment when watching this video, as it is not advised for children and for those sensitive to violence."

The feed switches to a video showing someone in the Batman costume hanging from a noose in a tree in Gotham City Park. Blood was pooled beneath the corpse, and the noose right around the nape of the neck was stained crimson red. I feel my eyes widen. I stand motionless in anticipation and concern, my full attention to the news story.

"The man in the costume has not yet been identified, nor do we have confirmation if this is indeed the true Batman or perhaps another imposter. Gothamites will recall the incidents from two years ago from the infamous Joker, and this does feel all too familiar."

I shiver slightly, vividly recalling the times when Joker made good on his threats two summers ago. The faces of the imposters that he killed in his feverish desire to unmask the real Batman. All of the innocent people that died at the hands of the Joker. My phone buzzes in my hands, and I glance down to check the message. The Batman imposters apparently didn't go into hiding, or maybe they figured that it was safe once again because they had heard about Batman being back sporadically in Gotham?

'how long until the bat takes him back down again?'

I type a response to Jon quickly.

'i'm not sure… but I hope soon'

':/'

'he took him down before, he'll do it again'

Devyn responded, and I noted the slight grimace on her face.

'but how many lives will be lost this time?'

My mind snapped back to the random violence that's happened around Gotham since Joker escaped from Arkham along with Harley Quinn. Come to think of it, they really haven't caused that much trouble recently… Well, except for this poor man. I felt myself subconsciously begin to pick at my thumb nail as I watch the live reporter, Jack Ryder, do a live report from Gotham City Park as they begin to cut down and lower the body from the immense oak tree's limb.

"This is madness," Devyn murmurs. "All of this because of… an obsession."

It's true. The Joker is a sociopath. A murderous sociopath, at that.

"To think," she continued, bowing her head slight and rubbing her wrist in her opposite hand unconsciously. "We lost our D.A. to this man. We lost Loeb. Judge Surillo. Countless cops, good and bad. Hell, we thought we lost Gordon."

I nodded slowly. She was right. Gotham took a huge hit two years ago. But I couldn't keep my thought to myself.

"But worst of all, we lost the hero we deserved. What was it Gordon said? 'Not the hero we deserved, but the hero we needed'?"

"Or so we thought. He's saved you. Whether he killed Harvey or not, he's got points in my book for that alone."

Devyn smiled gently at me and I returned the smile, nodding.

"That's what I don't understand," I ran my fingers through my somewhat messy tendrils. "Why? What possible reasoning would Batman have to kill Harvey? Especially after Harvey took his place and said that he was Batman?"

"I dunno, Eve. But something big had to have happened."

"The Joker won that night, not Batman," I shook my head. "Maybe it was damage control. Five dead, two of them cops at the hands of Batman? Not exactly his m.o., he's never killed anyone before," I mused.

"Who knows? Guess we'll just have to wait and find out with the rest of the city."

After a hot shower, a change of clothes and quickly throwing my hair into a half up-half down style, it was already nearly 4 o'clock. My buzzed with an incoming call. I picked up the device, noting the caller ID: Commissioner Gordon.

"Price," I answered.

"Price, I'm sorry to bother you, but I wanted to speak to you. Is this a good time?"

"Of course. Give me just one minute."

I placed my hand over the microphone and mouthed to Devyn that it was Commissioner Gordon and that I was going to step out onto the balcony. I was met with a nod in response, as well as a slight look of concern and excitement at the fact that Gordon was calling.

"Okay, Commissioner," I stated.

"I wanted to run this by you, tell me what you think. I want for all of our first responders to be armed. We're providing the firearms, the vests. The whole nine yards."

I was a bit speechless, but my voice eventually found me once again.

"I understand, times here are certainly hard, but sir…" my voice tapered off as I searched for the right words.

"Our paramedics and firefighters need and deserve to be as protected as my cops. I won't take no for an answer. I can't lose any more good people," I hear him strain slightly.

"Commissioner… I appreciate this offer. Thank you. It's good to know there are still good people in Gotham."

"Thank you. Can you meet me at MCU?"

I nodded, even though I knew he couldn't see the movement.

"Yes, I can. As soon as possible?"

"As soon as possible."

The phone call ended after that, and I turned around and re-entered Dev's apartment.

"Soooo…?" Devyn immediately prompted me.

"Gordon is arming us. Vests, firearms, everything."

"Those of us he knows he can trust, you mean."

I shot a knowing smile at my best friend as her phone began to ring. Gordon was calling her next.

I hailed a cab outside, asking to be taken to MCU. I whipped out my cell phone in the back seat, noting the time as 4:06. I should still have enough time to make it to the manor by six. I sat back in the not-very-comfortable-but-it'll-do seat in the back of my cab and just watched the city splay out in front of me. After a brief ten minutes, we pulled up to the front of MCU, and I stepped out, paying my fare.

I began to walk up the stairs to the building in the heart of downtown Gotham. I enter the building and check in with the very tight security.

"Name?" the man looked to me briefly.

"Evangeline Price, I'm here to see Commissioner Gordon."

"ID?"

I leaned into my purse, fishing out my wallet and pulled out my operator's license and slid it to him. I watched as he examined the photo carefully, examining myself periodically. Eventually he was satisfied that I was who I said I was and buzzed me in.

I nodded thankfully toward the man as I entered the busy lobby area.

"Commissioner, you have a visitor in the lobby," I heard the same man's voice announce my presence via the speakers in the building.

The blast of air conditioning sent goose bumps dancing across my exposed arms and legs, as I wore a v-neck tee and a pair of jean shorts in the 90-degrees-Fahrenheit weather. My sandals gently smacked the floor as I walked toward some seats and I planted myself, waiting for Gordon. I didn't have to wait very long.

"Price, thanks for coming so quickly," Gordon greeted me with a tired smile.

"Of course. Thank you for everything you're doing for us."

"You can thank Wayne Enterprises," we chatted as we walked through the lobby and toward the direction of the second floor where Gordon's office was.

"Wayne Enterprises?" I mused, an eyebrow raising slightly. I turned my head toward the aging man beside me.

"Yes, seems they have the same belief that I do. Protect Gotham's first responders."

I nodded, grateful once again to Bruce. No doubt he had something to do with this. As we ascended the staircase, some cops walked by us, and I earned myself a cat-call whistle from a male officer. I rolled my eyes and I heard Gordon sigh exasperatedly.

"Some people…" I heard him grumble under his breath.

I couldn't help but smirk slightly, knowing that I had the exact same thought.

We rounded a corner after completing our trip up the staircase, and walked straight ahead as I saw Gordon's office. A man was sitting near the desk, with some very official looking equipment. Gordon and I entered the office and the man stood immediately. He was an older African-American gentleman, with salt-and-pepper hair. I liked him almost immediately.

"You must be Evangeline Price," the man greeted me, his voice smooth. He extended his hand toward me for a handshake. Yep, I liked this man already.

"I am," I firmly grasped the man's hand and shook it in return.

"Lucius Fox. I'm here from Wayne Enterprises. I'm sure Commissioner Gordon has explained things to you?"

I bobbed my head. "Yes, he has. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

He walked around to the briefcase that was perched upon the mahogany desk in front of me. He opened the case, revealing a 9mm Smith and Wesson with three clips, a permit for the firearm, and a Kevlar bulletproof vest. He carefully began to extract each item and place them in front of me.

"Your concealed carry, and first responder carry permit, just needs your signature and to be notarized by the Commissioner here."

I examined the legal document before signing my name. I slid it to Gordon, who also signed, and Fox dug right back in.

"9mm Smith and Wesson M&P 9 Shield. Performance center with night sights."

He gestured to the pistol and I carefully picked up the slim, and surprisingly lightweight pistol in my hands. I examined the piece of weaponry, ensuring that the safety was engaged and to keep my finger off of the trigger even though there was no clip inserted.

"Easy to conceal, simple operation, and she's reliable day and night. She won't disappoint you, Miss Price."

I looked to Mr. Fox, who was watching me turn the gun over and over in my hands, getting used to the weight and the size. I nodded silently in thanks, and was met with a small grin before Fox returned his attention to the items once again.

"We've also included a holster and three clips."

"And bullets?" I asked, grinning slightly.

"You don't want to just have it for show?" he sent me a lop-sided grin to which I slightly inclined my head to the side, smirking showing him that I was playing along. "Oh, now where's the fun in that?" Fox grinned broadly. Yep, I like this man. I couldn't help but laugh quietly as I examined the holster, one that would go outside of the waistband as well as one covert that goes on the inside. Just like I've seen countless officers have in real life and on TV.

"And the pièce de résistance…" Fox took on a French accent as he handed me the vest. "She's made of Kevlar. Perfectly adapted to be worn under your work uniform."

I noted that the vest was white, to match our uniform shirts. I smiled slightly.

"Breathable while functional. She'll withstand rifle shots and everything below. It'll also fend off close-range attacks, like with knives for example."

 _Oh, good. Knives._ I shuddered, remembering the feeling of Joker's knife in my shoulder.

Gordon cleared his throat quietly, as if he could feel my unease.

"Thank you, Mr. Fox," he said. "Your contributions are always greatly appreciated… and tend to be undervalued," he murmured at the end.

Luckily, Lucius grinned.

"It's alright. With everything going on right now…" he trailed off.

I nodded.

"Thank you, Mr. Fox," I extended my hand toward him once again.

"My pleasure," he grasped my hand for another handshake. He turned on his tail and began to leave the office, but not before very quickly turning back around and stopping momentarily. "And Miss Price?"

I turned toward him. "Yes?"

"Mister Wayne was quite right about you," he smiled.

"W-what? How do you mean?" I stammered, caught off guard.

"Why don't you ask him? He's the one who said you were beautiful."

Lucius winked toward me subtly and exited Gordon's office. The rush of color on my cheeks was immediate and I didn't need a mirror to know I resembled a tomato.

It was now just after 5o'clock in the evening, and all of Gotham's citizens were beginning their crawl home. This unfortunately left me with very few cabs, and those that I did manage to hail someone else stole from me. I sighed, losing my third cab. It was now 5:30. I hated to do this, but the drive to the manor from here should take about 20 minutes, and I really don't want to be late and potentially ruin what I have with Bruce. I took out my phone, and dialed Bruce's number. It rang three times before he answered.

"Hey, are you okay?" he immediately asked me.

"Yeah," I laughed lightly. "I'm fine. Except for the fact that I can't get a damn cab around here," I growled slightly, making a couple of people around me look at me.

I was met with a chuckle from Bruce.

"Want me to come pick you up?" I could hear in the background Bruce walking somewhere briefly and then I heard the jingle of a key ring.

"If you could, I'm sorry."

"You're fine. Are you at Devyn's?"

"No, I'm at GCPD."

I heard Bruce stop for a moment.

"GCPD? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Gordon wanted to see me."

"Oh," a moment of realization must have struck Bruce because he suddenly piped up again. "I take it you got your things from Fox?"

"You got it," I had begun to pace slightly, the case with my new service weapon, magazines, and vest swaying slightly in my opposite hand. "Thanks, by the way."

"That was actually all on Fox. Can't believe I didn't think of that, though…" I heard a car engine roar and the slight sound of tires squealing on asphalt.

"Slow down there, tiger," I laughed. "Anyway, I'm just appreciative of the fact that someone is looking out for us, too."

"Yeah, me, too. You guys deserve it. I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Okay, see you soon," I smiled.

"See you soon. Bye."

Bruce ended the call, and I put my phone back into my purse slung over my shoulder.

A head of blonde hair catches my eye, with piercing blue eyes. But there's something about him that makes me feel… uncomfortable. We made eye contact and then he began to walk toward me. I didn't like the look he had in his eyes. I quickly turned around and began power-walking my way through the crowd. I turned my head over my shoulder to look for the man, and saw that he was still following me. I pushed through a couple of people and eventually broke free and started to run. To my horror I saw the same man now running after me, and man, he was gaining on me fast. I started to sprint and I crossed the street, taking the chance. I was greeted with many horns blaring at me, the sounds of tires screeching to a halt, but I didn't care. I had to get away from this man. I pushed my legs to carry me further up the street, and soon I immersed myself into a large crowd of Gothamites that were walking to a parking garage. I tried to quiet and calm my breathing and my heart from the adrenaline rush. A moment later, a silver Lamborghini raced by me, heading toward the GCPD's MCU building. My heart sank slightly, knowing that that just had to be Bruce, and that now I had to turn around and go back, risking running into the blonde man.

The realization suddenly struck me, and I stopped walking, my eyes going wide. That was the man that had tried to kill me last time with the goddamn Joker! But… what in the hell was his name…? My mind racked my memories, searching for a name.

"Ra's," I whispered the name. I turned around, and was greeted to the sight of the man himself waiting for me, a slightly evil grin on his face. "What do you want?"

It seemed as though everyone on the street just vanished, and it was just the two of us there.

"You know," he purred. "You know about him. Trust your instinct."

I narrowed my eyes slightly.

"You tried to kill me."

The man grinned slightly, sending a shiver down my spine.

"You're just a pawn in the game. And pawns must be sacrificed."

My phone rang loudly, making me jump from the tension. I looked away to find my phone and answer it, seeing that it was Bruce ringing. I raised my head to answer, and my breath caught in my throat.

Ra's was gone.

I looked around frantically, noting just how quickly the street cleared out all of a sudden. I shakily accept the call from Bruce.

"Where are you?" I hear him asking me frantically.

"Bruce…" I mentally slap myself at the shakiness of my voice. "Turn around. Come back up the street. I'm in front of," I turned and looked at the store I was in front of. "McAlister's."

I instantly heard the roar of the Lamborghini's motor, followed by some car horns (which made me cringe, he apparently cut someone off) and in mere seconds the car screeched to a halt in front of me. Bruce leapt out of the car and ran to me, gently cupping my face in his hands. His thumb gently caressed my cheek bone.

"Are you okay? What happened?"

I swallowed hard. "I can't tell you here."

He seemed to understand what I meant, and he gently took my hand in his and led me to the parked Lamborghini, opening the passenger door for me and taking my case with my new things and tossing it carelessly into the back seat. I seated myself in the passenger seat and the door was shut a little harshly. I watched Bruce try to collect himself and walk/half run to the driver's side door and he climbed in.

He sat gripping the steering wheel quietly, and I watched as his expression became neutral. He looked very briefly in the mirror before taking off and away from the curb. I slid back into the seat slightly at the sudden acceleration. None of us said anything. But Bruce silently slid his hand onto mine, and gently held my hand as he drove at break-neck speeds back to Wayne Manor.


	14. Chapter 14

Hey, everyone! This chapter is a bit short, but I just felt that this was the perfect place to end. (:

* * *

The ride to Wayne Manor was silent. Well, except for the sounds of car horns blaring at us whenever Bruce ran a red light. When we finally parked in the long drive of the manor, I had to force my hand to let go of the door handle, my knuckles were white. I grabbed the case with my new work supplies in it firmly in my free hand.

Bruce smirked at me while mumbling an apology about his driving to which I lightly rolled my eyes and stepped out of the Lamborghini.

"Bruce…" I started, but Bruce silenced me and placed his hand in the small of my back and ushered me inside the manor. Alfred met us at the door and opened it for us.

"Welcome back, Master Wayne, and it's a pleasure to see you again, Miss Price."

I smiled to Alfred.

"Thanks, Alfred. Nice to see you, too."

Bruce and I silently entered the manor, and I watched as he immediately began to walk toward the staircase in front of me, leaving me awkwardly with Alfred. The elder man and I shared a glance before he nodded his head in Bruce's direction.

"Bruce?" I started once again, to his still retreating back.

I clenched my jaw slightly, knowing that he was ignoring me.

"Bruce," I tried again. My agitation was creeping into my voice and he was still walking away, but he slowed his pace. I rolled my eyes. "That man. That was the same man that attacked me after the Joker kidnapped me."

Bruce stopped altogether now, but his back was to me.

"Bruce… It was Ra's."

I hear Alfred suck in a breath over my shoulder, and I turn back slightly toward him to see him sending a look of concern and plea toward Bruce's back.

"Bruce, I know something happened. Please… Tell me."

He finally turned around to face me, and I was breathless at the sight of his determined and fire-driven look in his eye. He took one foot and descended one stair, balancing his weight between the two.

"Ra's al Ghul…" he began. "He's the leader of the League of Shadows."

"The… what?" I asked, confused.

"He was the man behind the attack in the Narrows. Worked with Scarecrow. Now he's back. And I need to find out why."

"He knows you, Bruce."

"He does. He knows… everything," Bruce struggled with his words slightly.

"He told me to trust my instincts. That I was right about you," I started walking toward him on the stairs, slowly descending the first two. "Bruce… I don't care that you're Batman. In fact, I admire it."

Bruce's lips parted slightly in surprise.

"Really?"

I nodded my head. "Yeah. You took down Falcone, Scarecrow, you stopped the League of Shadows in the Narrows. You stopped the Joker two years ago. And you've saved countless people from the threats that are in the streets."

I gently took one of Bruce's hands in my own, waiting for him to say something. But he said nothing. Just turned around and resumed walking up the stairs.

"Bruce?"

I turned over my shoulder and saw Alfred with a sad look in his eye.

"Was it something I said?"

Alfred shook his head slightly, sighing quietly.

"No, miss. Master Wayne… he's lost important people in his life. As a result of being Batman."

I stood silently on the stair for a moment before making up my mind. There was no way I was going to let Bruce go and brood. I sprinted up the stairs, kicking my sandals off in the process. I jogged through the halls, looking for Bruce in every open door, before finding him in the study of the manor. He was near a piano.

"Bruce?" I called out to him softly before entering the room.

"Do you want to know why I became Batman?" he turned toward me, his arms folded in front of his chest.

I could only nod, and Bruce gestured to the chaise lounge in the room. And so, Bruce delved into the story of just how deeply his parents' death affected him. How he dropped out of Princeton. How he left Gotham for seven years and became a thief and a smuggler and how he wound up in a solitary confinement section in Asia. And how Henri Ducard found him, promised him that he could be something more. Something legendary. He told me about his training with the League of Shadows, how he turned against them once he was commanded to kill a man and subsequently killed the man he had believed to be Ra's al Ghul. He smirked a bit recalling how he took down Falcone and his men once he returned to Gotham. The rest was history, except for one question that I had for him.

"But why bats, Bruce?" I asked, fidgeting with some strands of my hair.

"I wanted Gotham to fear what I did," Bruce smirked, leaning forward. "What about you? What brought you to Gotham?"

I had told him before that I when my parents were still alive that we used to live on the outskirts of Metropolis, but I didn't have the heart to tell him how my parents had died, and he respected that. But I was ready. He poured out his heart to me, and I want to do the same in return.

"I was fifteen when my mom and I were driving home from Metropolis. It was a late Friday night, we were chatting and were coming home from shopping and having dinner while my dad was at work," I began. "A drunk driver struck the car, T-boning us. He ran the stop sign."

I cringed, remembering every detail.

"Mom… She died right there, right in front of me. There was so much blood…" I choked out. "The last thing she ever said to me was 'I love you, 'line.' I just sat there in numb shock before I started screaming. The pain hit me all at once. The airbag had given me a black eye, and the windshield shattered. The impact sent glass into my stomach."

Bruce's eyes wandered over me, and I felt his fingers gently massage the spaces between my knuckles.

"Did they find him?"

"Yeah, what was left of him. He didn't wear a seatbelt and was ejected through the windshield," I grimaced. "I still hate that man. He took her away from me…" my free hand roamed to the pendant around my neck.

"What about your father?" Bruce gently asked me.

I sighed. "Dad… He was torn apart over Mom's death. He didn't leave my side in this hospital for the four days that I was there, but I could tell that mentally and emotionally he just wasn't there anymore. When we got home, he moped and brooded around the house, waiting and looking for Mom and … he just sobbed for hours."

I sighed, tears welling up in my eyes.

"Dad completed suicide a week after Mom died. He chose to leave me, Bruce," I whispered but my voice grew as I continued to talk.

"I'm sorry."

My eyes met Bruce's and I felt a few tears slip unconsciously.

"I am, too. I lived with my grandmother, but Metropolis just held too many painful memories. So, once I turned 18, I left. I came here. Struggled, working job to job before I wound up at Station 17. Walked in as a volunteer, and stuck around and well, you know the rest."

 _Kind of._

"You mentioned becoming a thief… I didn't exactly become the best person, either, Bruce. I got into drugs. Pain killers, really. I needed them to take the edge off. That was the reason I met Devyn, actually. She literally brought me back when I OD'd and nearly killed myself. I'm not too proud of that…But if I recall correctly, someone once told me that it's not you let it bring you down, it's how it's you rise from it," I perfectly recited Bruce's own words to him. "And you… you rose by becoming something greater. You're Batman… I seriously cannot tell you how proud I am of you for that. You're not different than me, Bruce. You're helping people, just as someone in a mask. Bruce, I became a paramedic so that no one would lose a parent or a child. You became Batman to get justice and to put some damn justice back in the streets of this city… This doesn't change the way I feel about you, Bruce."

Bruce's hand gently cupped my cheek at that point.

"Hey… it's okay," he wiped away a tear. "It's all okay now. But… Batman isn't what Gotham wants."

"But you're what Gotham needs, Bruce. We sure as hell don't deserve you, but we need you."

"Eve… I took the blame for Harvey's death and for those cops."

 _I knew it!_

"Why?"

"I couldn't have everything that Harvey did as the DA undone… He put away nearly 500 criminals in one trial, for God's sake."

"And if the public learned of that… Even after he changed…" I put the pieces together.

"Exactly. The city's criminals and lawyers would be crying for re-trials and God knows what else."

Bruce ran a hand through his hair, sweeping it lightly.

"You really don't mind me being Batman?"

I quietly laughed. "Honest."

"Eve… I… I think I love you."

My heart stopped and I know I felt my eyes widen slightly. But my heart leapt for joy, and butterflies went wild in my stomach. I knew my response.

"I love you, Bruce."

Bruce's eyes brightened a bit, and a smile graced his features. Bruce brought his face nearer to mine, and I mimicked the action, our lips were enticingly close to each other… He teased me a bit, gently brushing his lips on my own.

"Just kiss me dammit," I mumbled, earning a huge smirk and a laugh from Bruce before our lips melded together.

* * *

Huh? Huuh? Right place to stop, right? *fangirling so hard right now*


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